Please Stay Here
by partsguy
Summary: Suppose when Joan came to Endeavour's apartment after Ray had hit her, that he had not proposed. Rather he had tried to help her as best he could, knowing that he would be leaving for London soon. Things may have turned out differently.
1. Chapter 1

Suppose that when Joan showed up in front of Morse's apartment things had gone differently. That Morse had not asked her to marry him, instead had tried to help her. Things may well have turned out quite differently.

**Please Stay Here**

It was just another night in what seemed to be an endless series of similar unremarkable nights for me. The pub had beckoned, and like always I nursed the drinking of a few pints of my favorite ale which I could afford while doing the crossword in one of the out of town papers. It was always a balance of making it last as long as possible versus the need to drink it before it went off, a process I had become quite adept at. All in all a quiet night and being on a budget, like always, I had to resist the desire to have another and call it a night, even though I dreaded the solitude of my pitiful apartment

There's no hurry to get home, nothing awaiting me not even a cat. So I meander along, thinking about what I can expect at work in the morning while observing my surroundings, just in case. The quiet and solitude of the late hour broken only by the occasional passing car. Midway along the walk of my block I see that I am not alone out tonight. A solitary forlorn figure, bundled up in a green coat, is sitting on a bench, apparently in front of my stairway. The smoke from a cigarette is rising in the autumn air above them.

Something about the shape seems familiar, and as I approach, the person stands as if they may recognize me. Their body language however is one of apprehension rather than welcome. When they stand, I immediately recognize them as Miss Thursday, yet why she should be outside my apartment at this late hour I cannot imagine. As I approach, she stubs the cigarette out against the wrought iron railing as if she is guilty to be seen smoking. As I get close enough to greet her, she stays against the railing so that I am slightly to her left a move I think little of at the time.

"Hello" is all I can think to say, certainly not original but its all I can manage.

A passing car almost drowns out her quiet response, although the weak smile is enough of an answer.

I have my keys out by now and I have noticed that she doesn't have a purse or anything else with her. Several cigarette butts littering the walk let me know she has been waiting for some time so something must be important.

"Would you like to come in?" as embarrassed as I am for her to see my crummy little place, its better than being out here on the street at this time of night. Again she smiles weakly, and nods her head, so I extend my arm and point "downstairs". She turns and leads the way down to the little landing. There I must squeeze beside her so that I can unlock the door. Then I step back and allow her to enter the semidarkness of the main room. Again I must get past her to turn on a lamp. When I turn back to her, she turns away. But not quickly enough, I have already seen the angry bruising on her right cheek and around her eye. For a man who prides himself on his control I"m surprised how quickly the surge of anger takes control of me. The need to lash out at the person who had done this, to hurt them like they had hurt her. And I know immediately who had done it to her: "where is he?"

"no Morse, leave it I provoked him!"

"I don't care, tell me where he is!"

She came over to me grabbed me by both arms and said "Morse no!, please don't can we just let it go for now, I need to sit down for a minute and rest I'm so tired."

Still consumed by the anger I felt for Ray, I had to relent, if just for a little while. "Ok., Ok, sit wherever you can," then looking around my meagre ramshackle furnishing I had to add, "wherever you can find a place."

She looked around and saw, probably for the first time, how modestly I was living and went and sat in the smaller of the only two chairs I had. "This is fine, I just need to rest for a minute."

Looking at her battered face I knew she needed more than that but could only think "would you like something to drink?" "I can make some tea, but I want something a little stronger."

"no I'm fine."

"you're far from fine" so I went in my little kitchenette, found two glasses, which I quickly rinsed out so that I could use them. In one I poured a generous measure of scotch, the other just a small amount. I took them back into my living room where I handed the smaller amount to her " here drink this it will make you feel better."

She shook her head and told me "no, I really don't need that, I must be going."

"nonsense, drink it while I put the kettle on." I tossed back my drink as I watched her to be sure she drank hers. When she finished drinking it down, I told her "right, now I will go put the kettle on" Just as I was starting to pack the kettle the phone rang. We both watched as it continued to ring but neither one made a move toward it. Finally she said "you might want to answer that it could be work"

"only thing it could be"

She picked up the phone set and handed me the receiver. I held it to my ear and said "Morse" It was the night desk sergeant telling me that a body had been found and they needed for me to come in right way. "I can leave in five minutes, what was that address again?" He repeated the address which I wrote down before hanging up the phone.

"I suppose I need to be going to then"

"nonsense, you stay here, I don't know where you think you are going but the buses quit running at eleven"

"well I can't stay here."

"don't be ridiculous, stay here, I will leave the key in case you need to go out, I don't know how long I will be but I will be back as soon as I can, and we will sort this out"

I really can't do that"

"I really have to go, mind the kettle, I don't know what's in the fridge, and whether its gone off, but you are welcome to whatever is here."

I headed for the door before she could raise anymore objections. As I started to go out, I had to stop, turn around and tell her, "that's the only key I've got, so take care of it." Then I was up the stairs and headed toward the station. Before I could reach the top, I heard my name being called "Morse."

"Yes"

"If you see dad…don't say anything, ok?"

"of course not"

"you promise?"

"I promise, please stay here….ok?...I've got to go"

With that I started off toward the station and another long night of dealing with the cruelties that people can inflict on each other. I've worked through many a long night on similar cases, but this was the worst. It seemed like we were walking in mud the entire night. Nothing went smoothly, people were slow, Inspector Thursday and I had words because he thought I wasn't focused. Just a miserable night, made even worse by a predawn rain shower. We were finally released about eight to go home and get some rest before returning that afternoon. Even then Thursday had to give me grief about hoping I would come back with a bit more focus. His comment would normally have troubled me for the rest of the day, but not today for I had somewhere to go.

All the way home I was torn between the desire to run, so that I would get there quicker, and the dread of what I might find. I wanted to think of the possibilities but forced myself not to, I couldn't really believe that she would be there. Suppose she wasn't what would I do? Suppose she was what would I do? The closer I got to my flat the more nervous I got. When I reached the top of the steps I couldn't tell if a light was on or not, and I couldn't hear any sound. After a moments hesitation I started down the steps as if there was a bomb under each tread. Reaching the bottom, there was still no evidence that there was anybody inside, so I looked around to see if the key had been left. I looked at all the obvious spots without finding anything, then I looked at all the clever spots that I could think of, still nothing. "well maybe she has stepped out, or just forgot". Regardless I had to do something, so I took a deep breath then knocked. There was no response, so I waited what I thought was a reasonable amount of time and knocked again, still no response. She must have left but I'll give it one more time. This time I used my fist and banged on the door, enough so that I was worried about waking other people along the walk up. Suddenly I heard a noise as if something had been dropped and I knew somebody was inside.

A few seconds later the door was opened just far enough for the chain to pull tight and I could see a blue eye and some brunette hair.

"Good morning"

The response wasn't the cheeriest greeting I had ever received but at least it was a "good morning". She undid the chain and opened the door to let me inside the still dark apartment. I went over and turned on the lamp while she hobbled over to the chair, still wearing the clothes, sans coat, that she had had on the previous evening.

"what's the matter? I didn't notice you limping last night"

"I wasn't, I kicked that dam chair trying to get to the door so you wouldn't wake up the neighborhood."

"Did you find anything to eat?"

"Nothing worth mentioning, it's a wonder you haven't starved to death"

"I'm sorry. Why don't you get some money out of the tin and go and get something.?"

"come with me."

"I'm too knackered, I've got to be back to the station by two, and I just have to get some rest. Besides I want to talk to you."

"about what?"

"oh come on, what happened for one, how can I help, if you want my help for another. Just let me set the alarm so I can wake up in time," before I stretched out in the big chair it dawned on me, I looked at her "you are coming back aren't you?'

She was still standing there on one leg, massaging the toes of her other foot, she looked up at me "I will stay at least until you have to go back to work."

I nodded my agreement, supposing that's fair, or at least the best I could hope for. Just before I drifted off to sleep, I could hear the lid of the tin being opened then replaced, shortly afterward the door being quietly opened then closing. I could only hope she would come back.

The alarm had never sounded more jarring or more persistent. In my dream she had come to me seeking my help, and I had refused her. It all seemed so real that I didn't open my eyes for a few seconds, Before I could open and focus them the alarm had quit. When I did she was standing there with the clock in her hand looking at me, "I thought you were awake". Come on get up and get a bite to eat"

"I'd rather sleep another few minutes."

"Don't be daft, you need to eat."

"Have you?"

"Yes, I got something when I went out. Now get up, I've made some tea, there are a couple of sandwiches and some crisps"

I had to smile as it sounded so much like what her mom was probably doing for her dad about this time.

"what are you finding so funny, are you laughing at me?"

"no, not at all, I guess I'm just tired is all." "thanks for fixing this. I appreciate it"

"well I didn't do anything but take your money and go down to the shop and pick it up, eazy cheezy."

"foot feel better?"

"what?"

She looked at me as if she had no idea what I was talking about "where you kicked the chair"

"oh, that, it's fine."

I grabbed one of the sandwiches and the cup of tea she had fixed and leaned against the counter beside the sink. "well?"

"well?"

"do you want to talk about it?"

"not sure there is much to say"

"well for starts it's not everyday I have beautiful women,….friends, waiting outside my door at nearly eleven o'clock"

"oh, that" she looked down at the floor while I waited for her to go on. "I couldn't stay there any more….I had to get out"

It was a start, so I just waited.

"he wasn't happy with me…told me there were plenty of women who would be happy to take my place….."

"and?"

"I said, like the ones before me…"

"and then?"

"and then he hit me…..at first I couldn't believe he had done it, and then I could see the look in his eyes, it was like he was crazy, berserk…"

"how did you get away?"

"I was between him and the door, I ran out, down the stairs and outside. Fortunately I had just come back from some errands,

so I still had my coat on, and a little money in my pocket. Change, but enough for bus fare."

"so now you're here."

"for now."

"what do you want to do then? Do you have a job to go back to?"

"I not going back there"

"Ok. But I guess we need to get your stuff and bring it back."

"I can go get it myself"

"Do you think that's wise? …. He's struck you once….unfortunately I don't have any jurisdiction there, unless you want to press charges."

"no"

"well how about this….I've got to go to work now for a few hours. If you will stay here I will come home and we will work on finding you a place to stay. Tomorrow I will go with you and we will bring back your things.'

"and dad?"

"he doesn't have to know anything until you are ready to tell him and your mom."

She nodded her head and I thought I could glimpse a little tear forming in her eye.

I reached out and touched her on the shoulder as I went by "gotto go, I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Morse?"

"yes?"

"please be safe"

For some reason that simple phrase made me happier than I had ever expected.

The afternoon seemed to crawl by, reports had to be typed up, forms filled in. Lists of witnesses and potential witnesses to be interviewed arranged. And like last night I found myself distracted, apparently it was obvious to DI Thursday for at one point he walked up to my desk and in a tone loud enough for everyone around to hear said, "never figured you for a clock watcher, Morse." Perhaps he thought that I would be embarrassed by his comment, but he was wrong. Yes I was watching the clock but I had to admit it was exciting rather than embarrassing. Exciting to have a reason to go home for the first time in ages. As soon as we were released, I got up and started for the exit. Strange tried to delay me with the offer of a couple of pints at the pub, but I told him I had to get home. The only downside was I couldn't look at DI Thursday as I left, it seemed as if he were trying to read my mind.

When I got home and knocked on the door it didn't take Joan long to answer. She had set the telephone receiver down long enough to let me in. As soon as I got in the door she went back to it and resumed her conversation with whoever was on the line. Rather than interrupt her I hung my jacket up, and went and got a beer out of the refrigerator. By that time she had finished her conversation and was hanging up the phone.

"I hope you didn't mind if I used the phone"

"no, not at all"

"I was calling some of my old girlfriends, seeing if they knew of a place I could stay."

"and did they?"

"One or two possibilities, but it would be at least the first of the month. Maybe sharing a flat with a couple of girls I used to hang out with."

"the rent is paid here until the first of the month….I know its not much, but…"

"Morse, I couldn't do that. You're a good friend but….. do you understand?"

Unfortunately I did understand, only too well did I understand. "of course, I understand, but it may not really be a problem…I don't know if I have told you… I'm sure I haven't told you"

"Told me what Morse?"

"I haven't even told your father….."

"spit it out Morse"

"I've taken a job in London…, with the Met…it will mean my Sergeants"

She looked at me as if she didn't believe me at first. "oh, …..I see", There was nothing else to fill the deafening silence until she finally asked me in a voice which seemed to have just a hint of disappointment "why haven't you told Dad?"

"I was going to leave him a note. I just thought it would be easier"

She had no answer for that other than "when do you start?"

"Monday, 8 am"

"And where will you stay?"

"I'm going to get a room in a boarding house until I can do better"…"Maybe I can save enough money to get an apartment pretty soon"

"Is that what you really want to do?"

I couldn't face her when I answered her question, instead I found myself looking at the floor, "Bright was right, there isn't anything….there hasn't been anything in Oxford for a while to make me stay." When I looked up she was looking at me with the oddest look before nodding and looking away herself. "I see". So we just sat there in silence for a few minutes. Finally I got up and went to the window it was getting dark, so I asked her "why don't we go and get something to eat. My treat"

"ok. But somewhere quiet though, I feel like these clothes are becoming a second skin"

"don't worry you'll be fine. Tomorrow we can go get your things and bring them back."

"and Morse, I don't want to run into any of dad's or your,ah…..dad's friends, or your colleagues, ok?"

It took me a moment to understand what she meant. I could only mumble "sure, no problem."

Dinner at the pub we chose was a surprisingly subdued affair, conversation such as it was could best be described as forced. Each of us was finding themselves starting down a path that we probably didn't imagine a week ago. And I couldn't help but wonder was either one of us happy about it, although neither one of us was going to admit it. Since we were going to be traveling to pick up her things the next day, she suggested we call it an evening early. I only had about two pints, while she to my surprise had refrained from anything alcoholic, not even a shandy. Her explanation had been that with the stress of the last couple of days she just didn't fancy it. I really didn't think anything of it at the time, later I realized how naïve I had been.

When we returned to the flat, I expected the sleeping arrangements to be awkward, but surprisingly they weren't. She used the bathroom before going into the bedroom and shutting the door. I made do by pulling the two chairs together, wrapping up in a duvet and was soon asleep.

The next morning we got ready, ate breakfast at a little shop on the way to the train station, having agreed that the fewer people who knew what we were doing the better. We made the trip to Leamington largely in silence. Joan seemed to be lost in thought most of the time. The one time I had tried to draw her into a conversation she made some cryptic comment about how it was sometimes unwise to burn one's bridges. When I asked her did that mean she was having second thoughts, she told me "no, not at all, just that sometimes there are things we just have to live with. That we should always leave ourselves a way back."

At the same time I was preoccupied the job at the Met. Would I have taken it under the current circumstances? If she was coming back to Oxford did I really want to leave? The answer to that was as obvious to me as the scenery passing by the coach. But the die was cast, the offer had been accepted, I would be taking the evening train to London tomorrow. Starting a completely new life without the entanglements and complications which I had found in Oxford. And without her in my life, such as it was.

Collecting her things from the flat that Ray maintained for her was uneventful. She found the key above the doorway where it had been left explaining that "he locked me out once". I went in first, just in case he happened to be inside, but no, the place was empty. So I simply stood by as she gathered up all her possessions, placing them in the suitcases I had seen her take with her when she had left her parents' home months ago. When she finished, I picked them up and carried them into the hallway. She followed, stopping at the doorway to take one last look around. I noticed that there was a surprisingly wistful look on her face before she closed the door and replaced the key.

On the way down the stairway I foolishly had to mention "I'm glad he wasn't there, made things a bit easier." I wasn't prepared for her response, "probably at home with his wife." Somehow coming from her I found that gut-wrenching. I think at that moment I wanted to make it right for her. To hold her and tell something to make her feel better…But I had no idea how to do it.

The trip back to Oxford was if anything even quieter than the one from Oxford, each of us finding the scenery outside absolutely riveting. When we got back to the apartment, she was quick to take advantage of having her possessions back. She went into the bathroom where she took advantage of the opportunity for a bath and to put on clean clothes for the first time in days. I passed the time with a drink and reading the paper. When she emerged and I say her the first word that came to my mind was "radiant". She wasn't the beaten, bedraggled wretch that has turned up on my doorstep. This was the brilliant cocky young woman that I remembered from before the robbery.

And yet it wasn't. There was something just a little ….off….something different, and I couldn't put my finger on it.

"Why don't we go out and celebrate?"

"Is there something to celebrate?"

To my surprise she huffed a little laugh at that. ""Sure, I suppose we both are restarting our lives."…she must have seen the quizzical expression on my face. " Think about it tomorrow you leave for London, where you don't have all the baggage you've accumulated here."

"And you?"

"I'm BACK in Oxford, fresh from having failed in my attempt to restart my life."

"Feeling sorry for yourself isn't a good look on you…..why don't we go out and have celebrate the future? …..I warn you though with my money it won't be much of a celebration."

"well Morse, I know you don't realize this but I can be a cheap date if I want to be."

"I don't have any idea….."

"don't look so shocked Morse I was just teasing…. Why don't you change and we will go."

I have to admit she was a woman of her word. We had a really good time that night. Each of us knew a different level of places, almost like different cultures. And what surprised me most as the evening went along was that I didn't seem to feel the need to "put on airs" or try to impress here. On the contrary. I just let myself be pulled along with the current of the night. Like she was some maestro conducting an event. For a while I was worried about the money, but it became apparent that she did indeed know how to be "a cheap date".

It was gone two in the morning when I finally unlocked the door to the apartment. The apartment where I would be spending my last evening. We went inside, I turned on the lamp, she collapsed in one chair, and I the other. It was trite to say, but I had to say it. But I had to, "I had a great time, thank you." She had taken her shoes off and was rubbing her feet but paused long enough to reply, "thank you, sorry it had to end". On so many levels so was I.

It had been a long day and I started to get my duvet out ready for another neck cramping night. I had noticed she wasn't moving even though she had quit massaging her feet.

"Morse, what am I going to do?"

That simple question stopped me in my tracks. "hmm?"

"what am I going to do? I have no job, I've got no place to stay, my boyfriend is a married man who has made it perfectly clear that he's not going to leave his wife, and I'm ashamed to even talk to my parents."

I turned around to face her, just like I had been trained to do and asked "what do you want to do?"

She gave me a little laugh which bordered on hysteria and said, "that's a copper for you, a question for a question."

"Nevertheless, I'm serious, what do you want to do?" I had noticed the sniffles which were telltale sign that she was about to start crying. Funny how we had gone from elation a few minutes ago almost to tears.

"I need a place to stay, I need a job, I need money…..and, and.." she didn't seem to be able to go any further.

"well that doesn't seem SOOOOO bad."

"oh, come on Morse, tell me how it doesn't seem to be so bad", her voice steadily becoming higher as she went on. I needed to do something to calm her down.

"well think about it, all you have to do is make it to the first of the month and you can move in with some girlfriends, right?"

"….I guess so."

"come Monday you can start looking for a job, right? Maybe go back to the bank?"

"I'm NOT going back to that bank." I could see she was Fred Thursdays daughter, stubborn to the bone.

"ok, well somebody is hiring. Just have to find them."

"great, that just leaves that little thing called money."

"how much money is left from the tin after tonight?"

"not much."

"enough for my train fare to London?"

"probably"

"well I have a little bit in the bank, not much, but if you're careful, it might, MIGHT get you through until you get your first pay."

"I don't want your pity Morse!"

"It's not pity, it's an investment in the future of a friend."

"I can't take it.

"Don't be daft….listen its really late, let's call it a night. Things will look better in the morning." We stood up and she went to the bathroom while I collected her chair and aligned it with, the other one so that I could go to sleep when ready. She came back out of the bathroom, went into the bedroom then came right back out.

"there's one more thing Morse."

"yes?"

"I haven't had my period"

I couldn't believe what I had just heard, or quite understand what it meant. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"Oh come on Morse you heard me. I haven't had my period"

"Oh that, well you've been under a lot of stress, tension, that's probably it"

She looked at me with a look as if to say, I've already thought of that one too, and its BS. But if you want to believe in a fairy tale I won't argue with you. "sure, maybe you're right." With that she went into the bedroom and closed the door. I turned off the light and tried to get to sleep, but it just wouldn't come. Sometime near dawn it finally did come, but not for long. I may have gotten an hour or so sleep and could do no more. I lay there with my eyes wide open thinking of what I need do on this, my last day in Oxford.

When I judged the time was right, I found the key, went out as quietly as I could and went down to the super's apartment. It took a little effort, but I was finally able to rouse him out of what had evidently been a better sleep than I had enjoyed. He took some convincing, at one time I had to pull out my warrant card and look at it in his presence, but I got him to agree to do nothing about the apartment until the first of the month. I reminded him that I had paid the rent and what I did with it was my concern, …unless of course he wanted to hear from my solicitor. I then returned to the apartment where Joan still had not risen.

By the time she finally got up I had tea made and some bread ready to be toasted. When she came out I could tell she hadn't done much in preparation, given the early hour we had gotten to bed it was entirely understandable. But with the light coming through the little window behind her she seemed beautiful to me. "I heard you go out earlier".

"sorry, I hope I didn't wake you, there was something I had to attend to."

"not police business on your last day in Oxford, surely"

"no nothing like that."

Obviously, she wasn't going to press the matter, so I took the key and laid it and an envelope beside her teacup. "what's this for?"

"I understand that this is far beneath you, and I so wish it was better. But the rent is paid through the end of the month. I have told the super that I was going to have someone look after my things until then and he agreed to it. As for the envelope, like I told you last night, this morning its an investment in a friends future." I wouldn't have been surprised if she had thrown both back in my face, instead she looked at me as if she was trying to put together a response that wouldn't hurt my feelings excessively. Before she could I went on, "I'm sorry but it's the best I can do" She just nodded and got up, went over and busied herself at the sink, washing her hands and face before returning to sit back down.

Our little brunch was conducted in silence afterwards. It seemed like neither one of us was really in a hurry to finish. Finally we couldn't delay it any longer, I got up and went towards the sink, she did likewise saying "I will wash the dishes." I handed her my few items and stood back. It was soon apparent that I was being ignored as she was totally engrossed with the warm soapy water. As bad as I am at reading people I could take a hint, so told her "I'm going to go get my things together."

The rest of the day we seemed to be ignoring each other, finding ways to be preoccupied. So conspicuous was that I'm sure that Ray Charles could have noticed the falseness. Finally it was time, I picked up my bag and started for the door. She put down one of my books which she had been pretending to read and stood up. I felt that the whole thing was so inadequate, so cheap on my part, I had to stop and tell her, " you know this was the best I could do don't you? I just hope you have a good life…you deserve it."…"and you know you don't have to do it, go back to your parents, they love you and miss you."

She looked at me and just nodded her head a couple of times. As I turned to walk away she stopped me with, "Morse.."

"yes?"

"I had a lovely time last night" and came over and gave me a peck on the cheek and turned away. It was embarrassing how good that made me feel. But I still turned and went up the steps.


	2. Chapter 2 Please Stay Here

**Chapter Two Please Stay Here**

When I got to the station, I had a short wait for the train, and it appeared that there were quite a few people waiting to go to London on this train. So many that I wondered whether I would even be able to get on board. I decided to wait before getting my ticket, thinking that there may be an announcement that the train was full. So I found a convenient bench and sat down to wait.

The waiting gave me the chance to think about what I was about to do. All weekend my concern for taking care of Joan had let me put that issue aside. But that was no longer an issue and the doubts were rearing their ugly head. Why was I doing this to begin with? Was it because as Superintendent Bright had said, that I had made powerful enemies in Oxford who would never forgive and never forget? That The only way to move forward was to make a new start somewhere else. That there was nobody, not family, not friends, who would care if I left. If I looked at it objectively, he was certainly correct in his assessment. But was that the real reason that I was leaving? Did it have anything to do with making a new start? Or was it because she had left Oxford and with her, she had taken my sense of purpose? And now she was back. Back and despite my brave words and pitiful attempt to help she was in need. Which was more important, for me to make a new start in my life, a life that before and without her in it, as limited as it was, was empty? Or to stay, and try to help, regardless of the odds. Could it be worse to try?

There was no announcement that ticket sales had been closed, so I would be able to get to London this evening. When the announcement came, it was apparent that the train would be nearly on time. People around me began to gather their possession, start to say goodbye to their loved ones and move toward the boarding platform. Now was the time for me to purchase my ticket if I was going to make the train. So I picked up my bag and threaded my way through the throng as I made my way back toward the ticket counter.

It seemed that it had taken me a while, as it always does when starting in a new direction, but I finally arrived at my destination. Down the steps I went to the address I knew from memory and stopped in front of the door. Not having a key I had to resort to knocking on the door. It took a few knocks before I heard the door being unlocked and then it opened. I was met by a brunette who had the biggest blue eyes I had ever seen, eyes that were filled with surprise and concern. Before I could come up with my oh so well-rehearsed witticism, she beat me to it, "did you miss your train? ….why did you come back?".

I really didn't have an answer for her now. All I had was "can I come in?"

She had a mischievous grin on her face as she stood aside in the doorway, still waiting for my answer. I walked inside the place that I knew so well and before answering I looked around. Somehow it seemed different already. Nothing I could put my finger on, because nothing seemed to have been added, but it felt different, not so empty. I was surprised at the transformation towards, only towards of course, a home. Maybe that was what I had been missing all this time.

"Well, what happened?"

"I really don't know….but I couldn't do it…I couldn't leave."

"Come on Morse, why couldn't you leave? Your sergeants there for the taking, no more crap from people not half as smart as you. Why didn't you get on the train and just go?"

I knew that the color was coming to my cheeks, I could feel the flush as she continued to look at me, expecting an answer."

"ah, it's a long story….and I'm not sure that you would be interested."

"try me….just the short version is all."

"if you insist….."

"I do"

"because I want to help, whether you want it or not, I'm still going to try. You deserve so much better, and, If when you get on your feet you want to go your own way…..then so be it"

We looked at each other as we sometimes did before she shrugged and said, "I guess you need to put your stuff away."

"I guess I better"

I started by her to do just that, when she spoke up again she had a mischievous grin on her face, "But Morse.."

"yes?"

"Your neck is going to get mighty sore from sleeping in that chair."

I suppose it was the power of suggestion, but I felt the urge to rub the back of my neck, "I'm sure it will."

That evening she sent me to the shop to buy a few items so we would have something to eat for the next day or two. When I got back, she generally approved of what I had purchased although I don't think that the beer was in the budget. Even so the two of us were able to cobble up something for dinner. It was a bit of a surprise to me that it was almost enjoyable to work with her on that. And it certainly was better than what I could do on my own.

In the morning I was up and gone before she came out of the bedroom, just warming over some tea that had been left over from the previous evening and making a cold sandwich before heading out the door. The day at the station was basically just another day. DI Thursday did seem to be watching me a little more closely than normal, but I expected that. Given the fact that he had criticized me for being "unfocused" and a "clock watcher" anything else would have surprised me. And to be fair I always believed that he felt that I was somehow involved in Joan's leaving. That hadn't been made any better when he found that I knew where she was and hadn't told him. I could only imagine the towering rage he would go into if he knew she had come back to Oxford and was, if only temporarily, staying in my apartment. Nothing could prevent him from thinking the worst of me if he did. Nor would ne be satisfied with anything short of my dismissal from the force. Therefore I found myself feeling almost as I imagined a spy would feel within my own precinct.

But I made it through the day, went back to my apartment and couldn't get in. The door was locked and despite my best efforts the key was nowhere to be found. Crestfallen was not strong enough a word to describe how I felt. I suppose I really hadn't expected her to stay here. Crummy did not do justice to how tiny, and cramped this apartment was. She had never lived in such a place. Even the apartment Ray had put her up in Leamington was a palace in comparison.

While I was still feeling sorry for myself, I could hear hurrying feet on the walk above me, so not everyone must be feeling so morose. As I was trying to determine whether to break the glass or attempt to jimmy the lock, I didn't notice that the footsteps above had stopped.

"Hey!" what the blazes? I looked up to see her leaning over the railing, looking down at me, sort of out of breath it seemed and carrying a parcel. "yes?" My relief that at least she had come back to give me the key was probably noticeable in my voice. She straightened up and started down the steps. When she got down to the landing, she handed me the parcel with a "here hold this, I'm sorry I'm late, the time got away from me." As she pulled the key from her purse and opened the door. "you know we really need another key". Such was my relief that she had come back that the comment really didn't register on me at the time.

She held out her hands for me to give her the parcel back then walked over to the counter with it. Unwrapping it, really just pulling the paper back from it, revealed a simple flower arrangement. "I thought this place needed a little something to liven it up a little bit, don't you?"" And before you say anything, I got it on sale at the shop over near the market, how do you like it?" As bad as I am, I knew better than to say that the money could have been spent more wisely on food or some other kind od sustenance, so I just pulled on my earlobe, nodded and said "very nice." Later I would have to admit that the simple arrangement would bring a smile to my face every time I looked at it. And from them on it would always have fresh flowers in it, simple things indeed do make a difference.

Later over our simple dinner we discussed how our days had gone. I supposed that after years of her father not talking about work, she found police work interesting. Just as I found the life outside of police work to be if not intriguing at lest somewhat interesting. She told me that she had been looking for a job all day with mixed results. A couple of places were possibilities, but nothing guaranteed just yet. Neither of them seemed suitable to me for a young woman with her qualifications. Yet when I started to ask why she didn't inquire at the bank again I was shot down immediately. Looking up from her plate she said in no uncertain terms, "I'm not going back there, I'd starve first." I suppose it was seeing my surprise at her adamance or maybe disappointment on my face she tried to soften it a bit. "And besides I don't even know if they would hire me back. One of these other two will come through quicker. We could use the money, and I can move up later." So the matter was closed for now. I should just be happy she was here and not worry about being a career counselor.

From then on, the next two weeks were one of the best periods of my life. It's true that money was incredibly short, I couldn't afford to drink myself into a stupor every night, and if the truth be told I didn't want to. Some of that money had to go to, not just more food but entertainment as well. It only took about two days to realize my collection of classical records, and old journals was boring her to tears. But we managed to cope and only rarely got on each other's nerves to the point of a row.

She took a job in one of the shops which fortunately paid her by the week, and the owner even made a small advance to help her get by. We celebrated that night by going out to one of the pubs nearby. I agreed to no more than two pints and she again to my surprise ordered a large orange juice. It looked like the perfect evening until I felt the shadow of someone stopping by our booth and heard an oh so familiar "hello matey!" My heart sank into my socks as I looked up to see the face of Detective Sergeant Jim Strange beaming down. Fortunately Miss Thursday was seated so that he didn't immediately get a look at her. But there was no sense in denying the obvious, particularly when he turned to her and asked, "and who's this?" The resultant look of surprise on his face would have been priceless if it hadn't been so serious. She played it much better than I could with a simple "hello Jim".

"Miss Thursday,…I didn't….."

"Good to see you too Jim, I'm just in, staying with a friend for now."

"May I sit down?... budge over Morse." So I had to slide over on the pew where there was hardly enough room for the two of us. Strange then proceeded to bombard her with questions, where she had been, what she had been doing with herself when she was going back, etc. I wasn't allowed to get in a word, nor was there any need, she fielded every question with aplomb, answering each with words that told him nothing. After he had offered to stand us a pint which I graciously accepted, and she declined with a brilliant smile and a tilt of her glass of orange juice he got up to leave. "Nice to see you again Miss Thursday, hope to see you again soon." Again she gave him that smile and said "" And you too Jim, but I've got plans, and Jim….." He raised an eyebrow, "not a word to dad, ok? Don't want them to worry." He nodded in agreement and was on his merry way.

"well that's that" I said. "the entire CID will know that you've been seen in Oxford tonight, in my company." She leaned back in her seat, looked over at me and said is that so bad?" "no, not all, and I suppose it was bound to happen sooner or later."… "The question is what to do?"

"I know exactly what to do."

"and what's that?"

"Go ahead and finish your pint, and then we will go home."

We walked back to the flat in silence, I suppose thoughts were swirling around in my head as to how I was going to explain this to DI Thursday. She on the other hand didn't seem in the least bit concerned. When we got back to the flat, I hung up our coats while she put a little water on the plant. I got the duvat and started to arrange the chairs. In the meantime she had gone and used the bathroom before going on into the bedroom. As I was moving the chairs into position, she called me and asked me to come there. Not knowing what she wanted I went in too see what she wanted. She hadn't started to undress, and nothing appeared to be the matter, but she looked at me and asked, "aren't you tired of a crick in your neck every morning?"

Morning came far too soon the next day, and I had to try and disentangle myself from a mass of limbs and evidently, I did a poor job of it because I was startled by a "Owwh!" She was looking at me with a pained look "you pinched my breast!" "ah, sorry, I didn't mean to" she pushed me away saying "just be more careful, ok,"

"Ok, I gotta get ready and go to work."

"me too might as well get up." So we got up and had our little breakfast, afterwards I got ready to leave for the station, feeling somewhat like a condemned man. As I reached the door, she grabbed me by the arm and said, "hold on, haven't you forgotten something?" I suppose the look on my face told her that I didn't have a clue. So she reached up, grabbed me by the lapels and pulled my face down to hers. I was surprised, pleasantly, by the passion in her kiss and when she released me, she told me "don't worry it's going to be ok., you'll see."

The morning passed without anything untoward happening other than the usual mayhem among the population. Sergeant Strange did walk by one time and clapped me on the back, but DI Thursday stayed in his office most of the morning. He did come by for one heart stopping moment to ask me about a case before returning to his office. It was nearly noon, and everyone was getting ready to break for lunch when there was a flurry of voices starting at the other end of the detective bay. Congratulations and cheerful hellos could be heard, and they were heading in our direction. I looked up to see a smiling Miss Thursday coming down the aisle exchanging pleasantries with everyone that knew her. When she came to me, she smiled and before my heart could stop said "Morse, how are you? Just came by to see dad." Then she moved on, I heard her knock on her father's door before going inside and closing the door. When I recovered enough to look around, the blinds had been shut and I could hear voices inside. Strange and I exchanged glances and all I could do was shrug. A little bit later the DI and she came out, he stopped by my desk and told me "Joanie and I are going to lunch, you know where to find me if you need me." She trailed him out pausing long enough to give me a pat on the shoulder as she went by.

It was the same rolling wave of greetings, although not as boisterous, when they returned from lunch, a lunch that had gone far beyond the prescribed hour. As they went up the aisle the Inspector slowed up enough when passing by my desk to order me to come into his office, immediately. Joan trailed him into the office wearing the determined look I had seen on her face before. As soon as I entered, he said "shut the door and sit-down Morse."

"Sir" I sat down in the remaining seat in front of his desk. He wasted no time in getting to the point.

"Joanie and I have been having a little chat."

I glanced over at her, but she was giving nothing away. He then proceeded to recite the events, as Joan had obviously told him, from the time she had left Leamington. But he added one little detail that I hadn't been sure of although I strongly suspected it. "Do you know she's pregnant?" Even though I had suspected it from the day we went to pick up her things it was still a surprise to hear it out loud, to hear that she had told her father. I had barely been able to take a breath when he continued "and she tells me it's not yours."

I didn't know what to say. Before I could think of anything he went on. "She also tells me that she has been staying in your apartment, but she can move in with some girls the first of the month, that she has a job, and is happily back in Oxford. She also tells me that she doesn't want to move back in with Win and I." He had to pause at this point to get his breath and get his emotions back under control. "I guess all things considered I should just be happy she's safely back, although I'm not happy at all with the pregnancy. But we can talk about that later."

"Sir, I'd like to…" at that point she put her hand on my arm and gave a slight shake of the head as if to say "later."

"Why don't the two of you come over to mine for dinner tonight. The four of us have a lot to talk about."

"Yes sir"

Now get out of here I've got work to do."

She and I stood and walked out of the office, leaving the door open, and she told me "see you later", and walked on toward the exit. I noticed that Jim Strange stopped her for a moment as if he was asking her something, she evidently answered, he nodded and then she was gone.

The rest of the work day was a blur, I tried to keep my mind on my work as difficult as it was. It seemed as if I was alone on an island within the bullpen. Everybody who had seen me called into the office with Miss Thursday and the Inspector suspected the worst. None of them wanted to come close, even on business, less they incur DI Thursday's wrath. Strange was as usual the only exception to that rule. At one point when there were just a few people close by, he found a pretense to bring some reports over. Leaning over my desk, he whispered, "listen Matey, I wouldn't have said anything to the Old Man"

"Wouldn't have said anything about what?"

"you know, about you and Miss Thursday."

"nothing to say, really" It was abundantly clear that he didn't believe me. "OK, whatever, have it your way. Wanna go by the pub an get a couple of pints tonight after work?"

"No, can't tonight, got something I have to do." He just smiled as if I had just confirmed his every suspicion, and I guess I had. "I thought not, if you can take care of those reports for me." And he went back to his desk apparently a happy man.

Quitting time came and everybody else but DI Thursday had drifted out of the office. I stayed behind, determined that I wasn't going to be seen to be in a hurry. DI Thursday finally left, walking right by me without saying a word. When I heard the door at the end of the hall make its distinctive bang as it shut, I straightened up. Taking a moment to stretch before I went for my coat I reflected on the day and what I could expect in the evening ahead. I could call myself a fool if I hadn't at least suspected that something like this hadn't been in the offing. Still I could have easily avoided it had I wanted. I could have just gotten on the train for London and soon I would have been over 80 kilometers away and none of this would be my business. I could even tell myself that I had done all I could by leaving her a few pounds and the use of that ramshackle little apartment for a couple of weeks. All I had needed to do was to get on the train.

But I hadn't gotten on the train, had I? I had gone back to the apartment, no not the apartment, that meant nothing to me. I had gone back for her, not for her father, not for my colleagues and certainly not for the "Law". "The Law" what a joke, I had seen the "The Law" up close, from the inside of a prison cell. No, I had gone back for none of these reasons. I had gone back because a scared, and oh yes, she was scared, although I would never insult her by saying it, young woman that I had once thought "meant the world to me" needed help. So I would go and collect her, we would go to dinner tonight at her parent's house and face whatever they had to say. I just didn't know whether it was to face them together or hand her over too them. So I donned my coat and headed home.

When I arrived back at the apartment she wasn't there. Fortunately we had an extra key made and I didn't have to sit outside and wait, instead I went in and had a beer while I waited. She came in shortly, saying that she had worked a little late to make up the time she had missed by having lunch with her dad. With only the one tiny bath we barely had time to get ready in time to get to the bus stop and start out for her parents. Along the way she kept reassuring me that everything was going to be fine. She was obviously talking more for her own benefit than mine, so I just listened. The bus finally dropped us off about a block from her parent's house and we walked the rest of the way.

It was DI Thursday who opened the door to their home, but his wife, Win, didn't wait for us to come in, she brushed past her husband before we could cross the threshold. She threw herself around her daughter, locking her in an embrace that had to be suffocating. Joan was barely able to croak out a "Mom, you're crushing me!" While the Inspector and I stood back and observed. When Joan was finally free, and her mother, on the verge of tears of happiness, stood back to take a look at her daughter, the Inspector was able to tell me "well may as well come on in Morse." We all went into the living room where there was more room, the inspector poured each of us a drink while Win, led Joan into the kitchen where they could talk while dinner was finishing. The dinner was typical fare for Mrs. Thursday, tasty and in more than ample quantities. It was easy to see where Joan got her talent in the kitchen, the ability to conjure up a meal out of virtually nothing. That is assuming that there was something to cook, something I had been reminded all too recently that beans and beer wasn't a suitable diet. The dinner conversation was deliberately circumspect, politics and the weather. Work was, as house rules required, left at the hat rack. Yet I knew it was only a matter of time before we got down to the real reason we were here.

It burst like a bomb going off in a crowded room. We had hardly settled into our chairs in the living room before it burst "Dad, I'm not giving up my baby!", And they were off and running. The Inspector and Joan at each other's throats, the Inspector trying to tell his daughter what to do and she was having none of it. Mrs. Thursday was vainly trying to be a peacemaker and get them to discuss the matter rationally. As for myself I may as well have been invisible. None of them were interested in me at all, much less anything I may have had to say. It didn't take long for me to understand why she hadn't gone to her parents home that night. It was apparent that both her parents loved her, in different levels of intensity perhaps, but love, nevertheless. Yet they still were trying to treat her as a child. It seemed to go on and on, around in an endless circle, covering the same topic and going nowhere.

Finally, I suppose out of frustration as much as anything, the Inspector turned on me. Accusing me of taking advantage of his daughter rather than bringing her, by main force if necessary, back to them and their home. That was too much even for me, I wasn't going to listen to that. However Joan jumped to my defense and in the process stopped the inspector in his tracks. He had no idea about the job in London, nor how close I had come to taking it. That it was only because of her that I had returned. The result of that revelation was almost like letting the air out of a balloon. Everybody seemed to pause and take a deep breath, the Inspector being the first to speak, "Is that true Morse?" I looked at me and his daughter in turn before answering. "Yes, sir, and I'm not sorry I did it." Win reached out and took her daughters hand and obviously would have embraced her if she could. The Inspector still looked as if he wasn't convinced that his little girl had a mind of her own now. Joan while obviously emotional still worn that look of steely determination which I was so familiar with.

It seemed to me that it was over, everybody was talked out and there were no more words to be said. Knowing that the buses quit running at eleven I knew I had to go. So taking advantage of this moment of calm, I stood up and thanked Mrs. Thursday, Win, for a lovely meal. "But I suppose I had better be going. Inspector I will see you in the morning." Joan stood up also, "I'll get our coats." She had made her choice. We walked out into the darkness and towards the bus stop and I suppose towards our future whatever that is.

Addendum

"I never liked coffee"

"Well if you keep on there wont be any left in the vending machine"

"Morse, just relax these things take time, particularly for the first one it seems."

"Fred, leave Endeavour alone, my dad told me how you were when I was having Joanie"

"see, Morse I told you, its going to be fine."

"As if you have any idea Jim."

The four of us have been in that waiting room for hours, and the stress, at least on my part, is beginning to fray my nerves. What can possibly be taking so long? Surely nothing has gone wrong. They would have told us if it had. I hope they would have anyway.

"Strange, you got any more change?"

"Morse you don't need anymore coffee, just relax for a few minutes"

Despite our nerves being keyed up we didn't hear the door open or the nurse walking into the room. "Which one of you is the father?" Jim Strange and I just looked at each other. Fortunately the Inspector had sense enough to ask the obvious question, "and for whom are you looking?"

"I'm looking for Endeavour, which one of you is he?"

"Ah, I'm he, ahh him, Endeavour."

"Good, congratulations you have a son. All went well, mother and child are doing fine. Give us a few minutes and you can go see your child." With that she turned and went back thru the doors. Jim Strange tried to shake my hand off, while The Inspector and Mrs. Thursday waited patiently. Finally Win could stand it no longer and had to ask, "has she told you what she is going to name it?"

"No mam, not a word. I'm sure she has given it a lot of thought though." We all stood around kind of awkwardly waiting to be allowed back to see Joan and her child. Standing there with the Thursdays it was hard to imagine that night seven months before when I had come home from the pub to find Miss Thursday on my front doorstep. I had no idea at the time that she was pregnant with another mans child. Nor that I would be standing here in the hospital waiting to see that child. A child that I would be giving my name, but I suspected I would have very little to do with his life. Nevertheless I was happy for Joan, it was what she had wanted, and I wished her all the best. I just wished so much that it had been mine.

"You all can come back now."

We all followed the nurse back into the room where Joan and her son were. You could still the effects of the exertion on her, little beads of perspiration along her hair line, etc. "Morse, come see the baby!" I went over to her, she held the child so that I could get a good look while reaching out one hand to me. We clasped hands for just a moment before the Inspector and Mrs. Thursday were able to get between us and claim pride of place. Jim Strange stayed back out of the way although he did give her a "well done girlie". Joan seeing that I had been pushed aside did manage to catch my eye and mouth a "thank you". So I stood back and watched the proud mom and grandparents enjoy there moment knowing that things would never be the same.


	3. Chapter 3

**Please Stay Part Deux**

I have, throughout my life, always hated hospitals. People like to think of them as places where they can get well, but they also are places of misery. Such was not the case for me now. At least if you overlook the fact that there were barely enough chairs, those that were there were probably modeled after something from the Inquisition. And besides the room was tiny. All in all it was very comparable to our apartment.

"Endeavour!"

"umm?"

"Joanie was talking to you, or trying to"

"I'm sorry, I was gathering wool, what did you say?"

"I was asking would you be able to come and pick me and the baby up tomorrow and take us home?"

"of course, do you know the time yet"

"now dear, I know you want to be independent but, well, that place is so small and… we've got plenty of room"

"mom, I know you want to help, but we've talked about this."

"I just want to help dear, I know how hard it can be…"

As I listened to them talking it struck me just how proud I was of her. To have put up with everything, including me these last few months had let me see her in a whole new light. I knew her well enough by now to know that regardless of what society said, she would make it. She and her child. But thankfully she had chosen to allow me to be a part of her world, at least for now.

"Morse!"

"ugh, yes?"

"Try and pay attention, alright. Joanie was talking to you."

"I'm sorry, what was it"

"I don't know what time yet, they said sometimes in the morning they hope."

"Can you call or have someone call. We've got a big case we're working on."

"I'm sure dad will let you get away for a while, won't you dad?

The Inspector looked over at his daughter, twirling his trilby in his hand before answering. "Sure. And Morse is right it is a big case, and we both need to get back"….."Win you going to stay a while."

"Yes, Fred, for a little while at least. I will catch a cab….you two be safe."

We stood to go, the Inspector in the lead, and I started to follow, then caught myself. I went over to her, leaned over and gave her a chaste kiss and a" see you tonight." In turn she gave me a smile a squeeze of the hand and a "please be careful." Then I had to hurry to catch up with the Inspector.

The two of us leaned against the kitchen counter of the apartment, drinking a beer. Strange as was his habit was trying to amuse the baby, without much success. "He's growing like a weed, Miss Thursday, every time I see him, I can tell the difference."

I took another swallow of beer before replying "yeah, growing like a weed and eating like a horse." That earned me a look from Miss Thursday.

"Perhaps it's got something to do with who is doing the feeding, matey. Looks to me as if you have gained a couple of kilos yourself."

"well, he had better watch it because I'm not planning on becoming a seamstress."

"Sounds to me as if you've been warned."

"Jim, I have a question for you, do you think you can put up with us and the baby as well?"

"Miss Thursday, I would be happy to have you and the baby, its Morse I'm not so sure about."

"very funny."

"Seriously, I will be happy for the four of us to share a place. Gets kind of lonesome, and I need an audience for my trombone playing…. Any ideas about a place?"

I must admit to being less than shocked to find that she had already found a couple of places worth looking into. So we agreed that on Saturday we were going to look for a flat. In the meantime there was one beer apiece left. It would be a shame for it to go to waste.

By the end of the weekend we had all agreed on a specific place, and begun the process of moving in. By Wednesday evening we had moved our meagre possessions in. Strange's took longer but by the following weekend we were happily ensconced in our new place. The additional room gave us the ability to breath a bit which was good. What was bad was Miss Thursday had all kinds of projects she wanted done. Strange just couldn't help but tease me, not in front of her of course, about not even being married and Joan already having a "honey-do list a mile long.

The next few months were, to a man who is as much an introvert as I am, as much of a shock as being thrown into an icy river. Before the birth of her child, having Joan living with me hadn't been that much of a change. Of course that wasn't entirely true, sharing my bed every night with a beautiful woman was a huge change. Beyond that the pregnancy had brought its own set of issues but they arose only gradually as the pregnancy advanced. But that was nothing to compare with my new life.

Of course for the first time we had some breathing room, and Jim Strange was an amiable roommate. Surprisingly for a big man he was good in the kitchen, sometimes competing with Joan for cooking honors. Beyond that the biggest change was in our lifestyle. There were times I felt like I was back in college again. Both Joan and Strange had friends who liked to come over, Joan's of course being by far the most numerous. The nights when the girls and Strange got together to play cards were boisterous to the extreme. On those nights it seemed my main task was to keep the music down and mind the baby. Without a doubt however the baby was absolutely Joan's priority. And she was not shy about making that known to anybody who thought otherwise. Still there were many nights when the house was filled with laughter and music, things which had been foreign to me before Joan.

Our relationship with the Thursdays was interesting to say the least. Mrs. Thursday, Win, was always there when Joan needed her help or advice on childhood maladies or needed an emergency babysitter. The inspector, while I believe he has accepted the situation, never forgave me for what had happened. Of course he knew that I had nothing to do with the pregnancy, even so he thought that I had several opportunities to intervene and prevent it. Truth be told I think he really blamed me for the loss of his daughter, so our relationship never truly healed. On the job he was professional and despite my, on several occasions asking whether he would prefer a new sergeant, he never accepted my offer.

"I see him!"….. "Morse you go that side, I'll go this side!"

It happened so quickly I had no idea what was happening. I had the sensation of falling, of dust and things flying past, then I knew I hit something, I literally saw stars in front of my eyes, and everything went black. I have no idea how long I was out but when I came to all I could hear was screaming and the throbbing of my blood in my head. I could hear somebody with an authoritative voice, I think it was Inspector Thursday saying, "has somebody gone and called for an ambulance?" It sounded like somebody was throwing up nearby while somebody else, I think Strange was saying "pull yourself together man!" There were strong hands holding my legs down and I assume that was the person saying over and over "you're going to be alright, help will be here in a minute."

I was able finally to raise myself up with my elbows and get a look at my legs, I couldn't understand how my right leg could be at such an impossible angle. Not only that but it looked a lot like one of the bones was sticking though the skin. Funny how it didn't hurt at all. The last thing I remember was somebody screaming "get the hell out of the way!" And then everything went black.

When I came to I knew I wasn't in our bed, and that the light was on. When I opened my eyes, I was almost blinded by the glare of a fluorescent bulb. I sensed rather than saw that there were people around me talking softly. The color of the walls and the bed that felt absolutely nothing like our bed, told me I was in hospital. My hand was in the grip of a much smaller softer one. Occasionally my forearm was being softly rubbed, evidently by the person's other hand. I was aware that my body hurt, all over it seemed, but my had a feeling of being detached from my body. Both legs were immobilized, and my chest hurt every time I drew a breath, there were muffled voices, but when I tried to turn towards them it caused a sharp pain to run through the back of my neck.

"I think he's awake!" there were other murmured voices then and the next thing I could see was Joan's face looking down on me, and for a moment I had the oddest thought – that it must be raining- but I knew it didn't rain inside. I could see that her makeup had run as if she had been crying, I could tell that she wanted to hug me but couldn't figure out how. Instead she settled for laying her head gently on my chest for a moment before saying, "Morse, you've scared me to death."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." Truth be told I had no ideas what she was talking about. I was trying to understand how I came to be in a hospital bed, but the details were kind of vague.

"They say you're lucky you didn't break your neck…..that if you had gone all the way to the bottom you probably would have."

"I have no idea, don't remember much about it…one moment we were trying to trap him, I was moving in one direction trying to head him off, ..and then…."

She patted me gently on the arm "you're just really lucky you weren't hurt worse." and then her Mom spoke up, "Endeavour, I know things happen, lord knows Fred got injured enough when he was young, but I'm glad you're going to be ok."

"So how long am I going to be here?

"We're waiting for the doctor to come back and he should be able to tell us when I can take you home."

"I hope it's soon."

"Just be patient, I doubt if its tonight, but we'll get you out of here as soon as we can. Mom's going to take help care of the baby while I take care of you."

"Don't you have friends coming over tonight?

She had to laugh at the thought of that, "Oh that, I think maybe you're more important. Or maybe I should just prop you up in a corner and let you play the old wounded warrior and let them fawn all over you. You'd like that wouldn't you?"

"Joanie! You know he needs his rest."

"I'm just teasing Mom,…maybe." I heard the rooms door opening and could see the shape of the doctor approaching the bed. "How do you feel?"

As it turned out I had been more badly hurt than I thought. Besides a broken leg, some broken ribs and a concussion, there was some concern about internal injuries, fortunately those concerns were misplaced. It wasn't until later that evening when Strange and Inspector Thursday got off work and stopped by the hospital that we were able to piece together what had happened. I had been part of a team pursuing a suspect who went into an old industrial building. We had seen him go upstairs which we all thought was rather foolish on his part. Being quicker than my colleagues I had led the pursuit up the stairs. Several of the constables and I had tried to trap him in a corner but evidently, he knew more about the building than we had thought. There was a piece of cardboard or something concealing a hole in the floor, and when I crossed it, I fell through. Fortunately, I suppose, I had hit something on my way down which partially broke my fall.

It was eight long, long days before I was able to be released from the hospital, but it would be another six weeks at least before I was able to return to work. Joan came and stayed with me every evening after work, while her mother kept the baby. Hard work for her, long days, but she didn't complain. Strange came by a couple of times as well and kept me informed on what was going on at the station. Mr. Bright came by on his obligatory visit, wishing me a speedy recovery and expressing his gratitude that I hadn't been injured worse. I suppose it was unkind, but I wondered whether he didn't have the little speech memorized by now.

Of course there was the statement that had to be given regarding the events of that day. More illuminating was a visit from the representative from the personnel branch with forms to be filled out and papers to be signed. It was alarming to learn that since Joan and I were not married she would have received nothing if I were to have been killed. Not from my insurance nor from my pension, small as it might be. During one of her visits I mentioned that to Joan, but she didn't want to discuss it, and I didn't want to push the matter, but I wouldn't forget it.

Learning to use crutches was one of the most frustrating things I've ever tried to do. Before I was released from the hospital, they basically gave me the things, a basic demonstration of how to use them, and as long as I could more or less stand up with them, they were fine with that. They didn't even let me use them to get to the car to go home, I was rolled to it in a wheelchair, put into the vehicle and promptly forgotten.

Spending those days in the hospital had if anything made me appreciate my freedom more, I believe, than being in prison. At least in prison I had my mobility. Now I only had it on a limited basis, the house in effect being my cell. I'm afraid, I wasn't the quickest learner on the blasted things. I lost track of the number of times I fell, sometimes dragging Joan with me when she tried to catch me. Fortunately we didn't have a lot of breakables, or I would have likely destroyed them all in the first week.

We had a serious discussion about whether to leave the baby with me while she was at work or leave him with her mother. Of course I had to pretend that I would be happy to do so, but she saw through that right away. We were both able to save face by saying that my reduced mobility was the reason. The real reason of course being that she wasn't sure that I could do it.

So there I was in the place, with nobody to keep me company, just my records and my alcohol. The results I suppose were foreseeable. To make things worse I didn't seem to tolerate the medication that I had been prescribed, particularly the pain medications. The combination of these three things was almost my undoing.

Despite my best intentions I found that a good stiff drink, taken at regular intervals made a tolerable substitute for the medication. But as the days went on it seemed like the drinking increased, regardless of whether the pain was there or not. At first Joan was tolerant of it, and Jim, who had seen this before didn't say anything. But it wasn't long before we started to have difficulties. To both of their credit they understood I was having a rough patch, so they avoided a row when I would let them. But more and more I wouldn't let them avoid it, and the whole dynamic of the house began to change. It was no longer filled with music and laughter, instead it was filled with yelling and curses. Small wonder that no one wanted to visit anymore. If I had been in possession of my faculties, I wouldn't have wanted to be there either.

At first my leg had prevented me from sleeping comfortably in our bed, and Joan was afraid she would inadvertently hurt me. But now she didn't want me in her bed, saying she didn't sleep with drunks. Of course I denied it and told her she was just being "a selfish bitch". Of course that didn't advance my cause any, and rightfully so. Every time I went to the hospital, Joan would go with me. They would ask me how I was doing and how the pain was. I would give whatever answer that I thought would justify my behavior. The last couple of times I had gotten to the point that I no longer needed the crutches, but my behavior was if anything even worse. In both cases when the interview was over Joan stayed behind to talk to the doctor in private. The trip home from the last scheduled trip with the doctor was as quiet as DeBrym's morgue.

When we went into the house, she didn't bother holding the door for me, simply led the way toward the living room. I followed and as soon as she reached it, she turned around and in a quiet voice, but one that left no doubt as to its seriousness said. "Endeavour, you need to sit down, we are going to have a serious talk."

It wasn't hard to tell that she was upset, and I could imagine the reason. " about what?...first let me get a beer"

"No!, that's the problem, can't you see? I can't put up with the way you are letting alcohol get control of you again!"

"Oh, come on, it's not that bad. I just do it for the pain,"

"That's not what the doctors say, they say you're virtually healed, and that pain shouldn't be an issue."

"well what do they know, it's not their body."

"Well I know this, whatever the cause, I will NOT live with a drunk, and I won't subject my son to it. So you better think long and hard about what's important to you."

There was no doubt that she was serious, and that I had better take heed to her words. In fact I knew she was right. I had been sinking toward this point when she had unknowingly saved me by showing up on my doorstep after Ray had beaten her. It was only the need to help her that had reversed that decline, if only temporarily. Now at the first sign of trouble I was on the same path again.

"So what do you expect me to do?"

"get a handle on your drinking! I'm not saying don't ever drink, I understand the stress, remember I'm a coppers daughter….and another thing, Morse I don't want to be afraid that every day when you walk out the door, that I will get a phone call from the hospital,"

"You know it's a chance, it's part of the job!"

"Does it have to be part of YOUR job?"

"You of all people should know it is!"

"what I'm saying is – couldn't there be another way?"

"you expect me to work in a shop? -NO THANK YOU!"

"No, not at all, I know that isn't you. But how about another way?"

"and what might that be?"

"Remember why you were going to London?"

"believe me, I know exactly why I was going to London."

"well, wasn't part of it because you had made enemies who will never forgive or forget?"

"that was a part of it. … but only a part of it."

"ok, I won't push that….but those people still haven't forgotten, and as long as you are on the force, they never will."

"I understand that, but I can deal with it….I assume you have a point however."

"you may be able to deal with it, you have so far. But you have more to worry about then yourself now… if you want to, that is….why don't you go back to school, get your degree?"

If she had told me Martians had landed in the yard I couldn't have been more surprised…."what are you saying….how can I do that?"

"I don't know….but you're a smart guy….wouldn't that be better than sitting here, doing nothing but drinking?, waiting for them to find an excuse to get rid of you...because if you think you are going to keep doing that, while I have to sit here and watch, you are VERY wrong, we are out of here."

"so, just suppose I was able to do that, then what? It's not going to help me here."

"maybe not, but that's my point. It will give you many more options. I remember you telling me how impressed you were by that fellow you and dad met, who was involved with the minister early on, what was his name?"

"Dempsey"

"maybe that's something you would be interested in? I don't know what he does but it sounded like it was a bit different than murder and mayhem every day"

"I don't know exactly what he did either, don't know if I'd even be qualified, or how to go about it"

"you never will until you check. I'm just throwing it out there…it's up to you…. you just need to think about what's important to you. After all what else do you have to do right now?...I've got to get to work, after all somebody has to work around here."

And I did think about what she had said, while I was drinking the beer that I had been going to get. Of course that was only the first of several that afternoon. I didn't want to go back to school, a lot of time had passed, and I had been disillusioned when I left college., now you could add cynical to that list. Yet I had to admit there was a certain logic to what she had said. Could it be done, at my age, with my very limited finances, and where would I be able to find the time? I suppose I could begin to make some inquiries, at least that would show her I was trying to make an effort.

When she came home from work, I tried to be on my best behavior, helping as much as I knew how to do with dinner, which admittedly wasn't much. Afterwards I promised her that I would seriously investigate the issues she had raised that day. I couldn't promise anything but at least I would make the effort.

The following day I started making some inquiries, and quickly felt like I was trying to untie the gordian knot. It didn't take long to find out that yes it was possible for a former student to return to college. However nobody seemed to know the details as to what was required, how much money, how to go about a schedule, or anything. In short, I felt like I was tracking down leads in one of our most difficult cases. An additional complication was the need for secrecy. It wouldn't do for too many people in the force to know what I was up to, not even Strange at this point.

At the same time I was trying to track down the oh so elusive Dempsey. I remembered he had mentioned a Colonel Dollman, but whether that was his real name or a pseudonym I had no idea. Again it felt like one of our cases, but without the ability to call on additional resources for help.

The upside of all this was that it did make for some interesting pillow talk with Joan, who I think was surprised – and pleased that I was pursuing it. In the meantime I had gone back to work, and Joan probably thought I would forget the whole exercise. But she hadn't counted on my determination once I got stuck in to something.

Eventually I found that I could be accepted back into college, and as a veteran, as well as a serving police officer, most of the fees would be paid. So now it was turnabout. It was my turn to ask Joan whether she was willing to make the sacrifice that it would take for me to both work and return to college on a nights and weekends basis. It wasn't a surprise to me that she was willing, and we began to make plans for me to enter for the Michaelmas term. Of course, money which had never been abundant, would be even tighter, but if I gave up my drinking, by and large, we could barely squeak by. That didn't seem as if it bothered Joan at all, which was good since it was her idea. As for myself, I couldn't admit it, certainly not to her, but I was excited. All those years ago I had failed, largely because of a woman. Now I was going back again, because of the influence of a woman, one of the ironies of life I suppose.

When I had been younger it had seemed so hard, everything was so important to me then. Now looking back on it I wanted to laugh, or as close to it as I could come. The problems back then had been nothing, the delusions of a young fool who so easily threw away his chances on a dream. Now it was an attempt to redeem myself, before it was too late. And in doing so to save myself and provide a real future for the woman I loved and her child. But it was hard, so very hard, for all of us. Did I believe that I was unique from those around in those classes, night after night? No, other than in age and except perhaps that I had seen a part of life that most of them had not.

Before Joan had returned from Leamington I had often slept the night away in a chair, a glass in my hand and an empty bottle on the table. Now, she often woke me at the kitchen table, face down in a text book, and led me to our bed. Only on Sunday was there time to spend with her and the boy, time I found increasingly precious. Strange was a good friend and kept our secret to himself, but inevitably the secret slowly spread throughout the station. Inspector Thursday would occasionally ask how it was going, and Mister Bright mentioned one time that I appeared to be losing weight again.

At the same time I hadn't lost sight of trying to track down "Dempsey" or determine the agency that he worked for. Since I didn't have time to do everything, I enlisted Joan to help me with this project. Making phone calls, asking questions, etc., tasks that she seemed to relish and was quite good at. Of course she found it maddening that she couldn't find the answers immediately, something I found ironic. Patience didn't seem to be a virtue that ran evenly through her family.

Then one afternoon I came home from work, with as usual just enough time to swallow down a sandwich before rushing off to class. She was all excited "Endeavour, wait I've got something I need to tell you!"

"I've got to go, I'll be late; can't it wait until I get home?"

"Listen, some man came into work today, asking for me."

"An eye for beauty then.."

"Listen to me….he handed me an envelope, said "for you and your friend, please see that he gets it", tipped his hat and left."

"And, it's two tickets for a private box during the performance at the Sheldonian tomorrow night.!"

"What? Who was it? What else did he say?"

"Never seen him before in my life, and he didn't say anything. What's this all about?"

The only thing I could possibly think of was that our questions were starting to have the desired effect. That somebody wanted to meet us, for some reason.

"hmmm, what have you got to wear? I'll have to get a tuxedo…now I have to go, see you later."

The next day I told Inspector Thursday I had to take off from work for a half a day, he looked at me kind of oddly, I suppose because I seldom took time away from work. Regardless, I had the time coming and he had no real alternative but to let me go. As soon as I got off, I went to a shop I knew. They both sold and rented quality tuxedo's and I had made the acquaintance of the owner. He felt he owed me a favor because the inspector had convinced me not to involve him in an investigation several years before. He was happy to provide a very nice piece, well fitted, that I could borrow for the evening. Joan, I knew was on a similar mission that afternoon.

When I got home, she was already there getting ready for the evening. Despite her head start I was ready long before she was. However when she was ready it was quite worth the wait. It had been a long time since she had the opportunity to get really dressed up, in fact I could never recall her in formal wear. It's an overworked phrase but she was indeed a vision, even though I knew every inch of her, I'd never seem a woman so beautiful. Of course I was admittedly biased

En route to the Sheldonian we tried to anticipate what, or who, we would find. Who were these unknown benefactors? When we arrived, we spent a few minutes trying to see if there was anyone that we recognized. There wasn't anyone of note to see outside of a few local dignitaries to whom we were invisible, no one stood out. As time for the show was nearing, we decide to go in to our seats. An usher directed us to the box and showed us to our seats. I was a bit surprised, as was Joan I think, that there was no one there. We exchanged glances and just settled down to enjoy the show.

Just as the curtain was starting to come up the door opened and we were joined by a well-groomed gentleman, perhaps in his early forties, escorting a striking brunette, obviously slightly younger than himself. Somewhat to my surprise he extended his hand and greeted us as old friends "Endeavour, how are you old man?" Then turning to Joan, "and you must be his friend Joan, so good to finally meet you!" "Thank you for joining us this evening."

Since I had never laid eyes on either of them, I could only imagine a reason for this clandestine meeting. However they seated themselves as if they were joining old friends. The gentleman sat next to me, while his friend sat with Joan. The first words to me were "a mutual acquaintance sends his regards, and regrets that he couldn't join us this evening." I could see that the lady was similarly engaging Joan in small talk.

"and whom might that be?"

"You know him as Dempsey. Although others may know him by a different name."

"Of course" By now the play was well under way, and we could talk without inhibition.

"He regrets not being able to join us this evening, particularly since you and your friend have gone to so much trouble to try and meet him."

So that was what this was about. I could only wait to see how this was going to play out. "yes, he did make quite an impression."

"We are all curious as to why you both are trying so hard to make a connection?"

"Let's just say I'm looking to expand my horizons."

"Admirable, I understand that you have recently gone back to school,…. a wise move, one that many of your age wouldn't have taken. …..Am I to understand your ahh, friend, encouraged you to look at other, umm, opportunities?"

"she certainly suggested it."

"Again understandable, rehabilitation from an injury can be difficult, can it not? Idle hands and all that…." If it hadn't registered with me before it did now. Not only was I being interrogated but they knew a great deal about me, and I assume us,

"It has been a difficult period…..for both of us…perhaps her more than me."

"It seems she has born up well however."

"she's a very strong woman."

"she would have to be, now wouldn't she? Some of us can be ah, difficult…..to live with"

"sometimes we find the right person."

"I believe it was Cortez who when he landed in the New World burnt all his boats so his men couldn't go back…remember he had to succeed, not all of us are willing to pay the price."

"and your point is?"

"I hope you and your friend are aware of the entire picture"

"How can we possibly be?" He just looked at me and shrugged as if it was a rhetorical question.

Then to my surprise he joined the rest of the audience in applauding the end of the act. I hadn't realized he was watching it while carrying o a conversation with me. "Now listen old man, if you really want to talk to us, wait until the end of the term, and then we can talk…if you are still interested."

"How will I get in touch with you?"

"don't worry it can all be arranged."

"I don't mean to rude, but Susan and I have another engagement this evening." With that he stood, we shook hands, at the same time his friend "Susan" also got up, saying something else to Joan while he helped her with her wrap, and they left as quietly as unobtrusively as they had come.

On the way home Joan and I took the time to discuss the rather strange meeting we had just had. Joan's conversation with "Susan" had evidently been along very similar lines to mine. Letting her know how much they knew about us, and how little we knew about them. And there was no doubt that we had received a warning, delivered in a very urbane way to be sure, but a warning, nevertheless. The thing to do was continue along the path that we were committed to. There would be opportunities ahead, whether this was one of them remained to be seen. With that understanding I fell asleep that night, holding Joan's back to me, listening to the breathing of her son. Tomorrow would be another day.


	4. Chapter 4 A Time For Change

**A Time for Change**

Things had settled back to normal after the meeting with our mysterious "friends" at the Sheldonian. It seemed that since then we had found the proper balance between work, school and having a life. Gradually the friends of Joan and Strange had started to drift back into their lives. On some evenings the house was nearly as boisterous as it had been before I was injured and almost foundered on alcoholism. Of course this meant that it was a challenge for me to find the quiet I needed to study. And their music wasn't by any means to my taste, but I was able to cope, if sometimes behind closed doors with my own music.

Routine was something that I had always taken comfort in and that was exactly what I developed. The prewar era house we were renting had, in addition to the three bedrooms, a living room and a dining room as well as a laundry room. So during the evenings I appropriated the laundry room and made it into a study room. While too close to all the noise, and having to share space with a washing machine, detergents and an ironing board, I was able to make it my refuge. The noise I overcame by bringing by record player and my music in. We had found a second-hand typewriter at a consignment shop which made doing papers easier. Those things combined with a desk and a comfortable chair and I was well pleased with my situation.

Robert spent most days during the week with his grandmother, who doted on him. As I had expected the boy was accepted by his grandparents as Joan's child, not as a bastard. Of course it was early days, but he seemed to be a normal child, inquisitive and cheerful. I was a little concerned that Joan might, because of the circumstances, be a little distant from the child but that was far from the case. She certainly was finding her way as a mother, as was to be expected with a first child, but the love between them was undeniable. As for myself I made a concerted effort to embrace him as if he were my own. To not show either of them in any way that I was unhappy that he was not the product of my own loins.

Jim Strange was probably the happiest that things were settling back to normal. He loved having people over for cards again but was perhaps happiest when Joan's friends were around. Not that I ever saw him make advances to any of them, I think he didn't want to upset Joan, he just liked their company. And he was great with Robert, acting as if he were an uncle, since the boy had yet to meet his real uncle, Sam, who was in Germany with the British Army.

Some nights I would take a short break from study by going into the kitchen and getting myself a beer from our old refrigerator. Often, instead of returning to my hideaway, I would just lean back on the counter, observing what was going on around me and think how fortunate I was. How different my life was now to what it had been before I had found that beaten young woman waiting in front of my little apartment.

Yet this was a period of domestic bliss that I knew was not going to last forever. From the very beginning Jim had made it clear that he was setting aside money to buy a place of his own. When that time came, unless we were able to either bring in more money, or reduce expenses, we would be hard pressed to stay here, as much as we enjoyed it. Fortunately I was getting within sight of graduation now. At the end of this term there would be only one more year to go, and hopefully we would be able to make it through. Anytime I talked about it Joan would always try to reassure me that her father would help, but that was something I would try to avoid at all costs.

The pain was excruciating, far worse than any of the times I had been injured. A different kind of pain, down deep in my stomach, it had awakened me from my sleep. I took some aspirin which was the strongest medication we had in the house. That had absolutely no effect on the pain which continued unabated. Both Joan and I were concerned as nothing we did had any effect at all. Finally, at her urging I had to give in and go to casualty at the hospital. There after waiting for some time a doctor gave me a shot which he hoped would give me some relief, otherwise "see you physician in the morning." Even that shot made no appreciable difference. Joan tried to comfort me, but the pain made me as prickly as I had ever been. I finally got up and resorted to getting in the chairs again. There was no point in keeping them awake with my misery. Finally at some point I evidently drifted off to sleep, only to wake up just as the sky was beginning to lighten in the east. The pain was still there in full cry, so I got up as quietly as I could got dressed, determined to go back to casualty. Despite my efforts I had awakened Joan, who sat up in the bed asking, "where are you going? come back to bed." "I'm going to go back to casualty, I can't sleep, and I've got to get some relief."

"want me to come with you?"

"It's not necessary, get some rest."

"call me and let me know what you find out. Or if I need to come down."

"Ok." And I left and headed down to casualty at the hospital. No sooner had I walked through the doors than I met Doctor Saunders who I knew from previous police work, dressed in surgical garb, walking down the hallway. He took one look at me, stopped and said, "what's the matter with you?" "I've been up all night, with a terrible pain in my stomach doctor, can you do something for me?" "Try the casualty."

"Came in the middle of the night, they gave me a shot, didn't do any good at all, can't you do something?"

"I'm on my way to surgery now, if you're here when I get back, I will take a look." And with that he walked off leaving me standing there. By now it was approaching eight o'clock, so I decided to take the casualties advice and see my regular doctor.

Fortunately I was the first person in to see my regular physician that morning, and it was only a brief wait before I was ushered back to see him. A few questions, some poking and prodding and he said I needed to see a specialist right away. He recommended Doctor Allan, an internal medicine specialist. So I hurried over to his office and once again was seen with only a little delay.

This Doctor was, as seems to be the norm with specialist, brusque and unsympathetic. But in short order he was able to deliver his diagnosis. "Hmm, Mister Morse, its my opinion what there are one or two possibilities for your problem. Either you have cancer of the stomach, or,….you have an ulcer."

To say the least I was floored by the thought of either possibility, neither of which had entered my mind. Of course cancer was the scariest prospect by far, but nobody that I knew of in my family had ever has an ulcer. "so Doctor what can we do about it?

"First, I will write you a prescription to have filled, directions will be on it. Secondly take some Mallox, those will give you some relief from the pain. Then I want you to meet me at casualty at the hospital tomorrow at noon. Do NOT eat or drink anything after midnight. That's important, I don't want anything on your stomach, understand? I'm going to stick a light down your throat and look around inside your stomach….in the meantime no drinking and no fried foods…..any questions?"

I could think of a million questions, none of which made sense at this point. So I thanked the doctor, went to the chemist where I had the prescription filled and bought some Mallox. Taking those two gave me almost immediate relief from the pain, so after calling Joan to let her know I was out of the doctor's office I went on to work. She had pressed hard to find out what the results had been, but I refused to be specific just saying he wanted to run some tests. I must admit that being told you may have cancer is a disquieting experience. That evening I followed Doctors orders even though I felt much better. But as much as I didn't want to do it, I had to tell Joan what the Doctor had said. As soon as I did, I wished I hadn't. I knew her to be compassionate yet strong, even so I was surprised how quickly the tears came. Even after all this time sometimes the depth of her caring still surprised me. She was determined that she was going with me the following day, and it took until breakfast for me to dissuade her. Even then I had to promise to call her as soon as the procedure was over.

The next morning I called in to the station and told them that I had a Doctor's appointment but that I hoped to be in after it was over. The rest of the morning I spent trying to stay busy. After what seemed to be an interminable wait, I was able to start towards the hospital. Funny the conflicting emotions you have at a time like this, on one hand you want to know, on the other you are afraid of the answer.

Doctor Allan, who seemed to be in inexcusably good spirits met me at the hospital and had me ushered into casualty. There he proceeded to tell me how the procedure would go. First a local numbing of the throat, then they were going to run this stainless-steel flexible tube down my throat. There were pincers on the end so he could get a sample if he wanted, and a light so he could see the inside of the stomach. He made it seem very matter of fact, but I had the urge to vomit.

So the nurse handed him the antithetic, which he applied, and we relaxed (or they did, I was far from relaxed) while it took effect. Then he told me to open my mouth and he proceeded to feed this thing down into my stomach. All the time my gag reflex was rebelling against procedure, but we held on. Fortunately it was only a minute or two that he had been looking around before he found the source of the problem. "Mister Morse, you have an ulcer. And the reason for the excruciating pain is that it had virtually healed up, before the muscles in the stomach spasmed and it burst." He and the nurse had a brief conversation about the records for the event before they got ready to conclude. "Would you like to take a look?"

I had no real desire but didn't want to be weak by not looking, so "certainly" he hand ne the head of the device and I could see immediately what he was talking about. The lining of the stomach showed up as a beautiful brilliant pink. The food particles were yellow, and then there was a large emerald green mass which was the ulcer. Having seen that I was more than satisfied and ready for the device to be removed.

Having removed the device the doctor simply questioned whether I had gotten his prescription filled and was taking the Mallox. Having answered that I had done both he proceeded to give me his medical advice. "To have an ulcer at your age is indicative that you may have trouble with them the rest of your life. Be very careful with fried foods, they will make a recurrence more likely. Lastly drink in moderation, that will help prevent recurrences as well, other than that if you have any more problems call me."

Of course I called Joan and told her the good news, she immediately started to ask me what the doctor said I could eat, what not to eat. Before the conversation was over, she was talking about putting me on a diet, so I decided to go to work.

I thought that with Doctor Allan's diagnosis the entire episode was over, but I was wrong. On the first day of the following month I got a bill from Doctor Saunders office for ten pounds for "consultation". To this day that is the only bill I have never paid.

-"So "you think that's the end of it, umm?"

"I think so, I'll take this prescription until it runs out in a fortnight"

"and then you're going to go back to your old way's I suppose."

I had no idea what she was driving at, I was already feeling better, the pain was gone, it appeared that if I took the medicine as directed everything should be alright. "I don't see any reason not to."

At that she exploded, "You don't see any reason not to! And why not! Didn't the doctor just tell you to change your diet and cut back on your drinking? What do you think you're going to do, go back to your old ways and just wait for the next attack? Maybe it won't be just an ulcer next time! didn't he tell you that you would likely always be susceptible to these problems!"

"I think you're being a little overly dramatic about this."

"And I used to think you were smarter than this."

"well, maybe I'm not!

"obviously you aren't! I'm going to go and pickup Robert from mom's, we can talk about this more when I get back."

I hated it when she did that, because I knew it wouldn't end well.

Sure enough she hadn't forgotten when she returned. I had hoped that given the time she would have moved on to some other more immediate topic, but I had failed to take a woman's mind into account. Like with most of our disagreements I really had to admit, if only to myself, that she was right. My only salvation was that I was able to say that I needed to study and retreat to my hideaway until bedtime. Strange had seen what was coming and decided that tonight would be a perfect evening to spend in the pub. Both of us, like rabbits hiding from a hawk only came out of hiding after both Joan and Robert were asleep.

When I came to the breakfast table the next morning, I found Joan already there. She was already changing my diet because of the ulcer. "What's this?"

"This, Detective Sergeant Morse… is your breakfast, and before you forget it… your medication is on the table as well." Out of the corner of my eye I could see that Strange had lifted the newspaper in front of his face. Whether to hide a grin or avoid being drawn into what he thought would be a difficult conversation was difficult to tell.

"Doesn't look very appetizing does it?" She gave me a withering look in response. "Regardless of how it looks, its what you need to start eating healthy, and by the way I'm going by the grocer so I can start preparing your lunch from now on." That was going a step too far for me, "oh, how do you think that's going to work, its not like I can carry a refrigerator with me all day."

"Don't be ridiculous, Dad has been carrying sandwiches every day for years, - in case you haven't noticed – and he hasn't keeled over yet. Although I'm not sure sandwiches is the right thing, maybe some cottage cheese or something" It seemed to me that this was a battle I wasn't going to win so I decided to go along with it, hopefully in a couple of weeks she would have moved on.

When I got to work that morning and walked into the station there was a note on my desk that the Inspector wanted to see me. I knocked on the door to his office and he beckoned me inside, motioning me to take a seat he waited until I took a sat down before he said anything to me. "How are you feeling?... Joanie told us you gave her a bit of a fright."

"I'm fine sir, just an partially healed ulcer, nothing to worry about." He was looking at me somewhat askance, as he felt around for his tobacco before packing his pipe. "Well Morse, I expect you may as well resign yourself to a bit of mothering….at least for a while"

"You can tell Mrs. Morse, thank you but that's really not necessary, I'll be fine." He seemed to find this outrageously funny, for him at least, pausing with match halfway to the bowl of his pipe. "Win?...no lad, Joan. She's going to see that you do everything by the numbers as the quack instructed. You should have seen the two of them last night when she came by to get the boy. Thick as thieves planning out your diet and how much you can be allowed to drink"

"I really don't think this is really worth it sir.

"you may not but she does, and take it from me…..this is a battle you aren't going to win…and if you fight too hard, you will have other battles to fight as well. She even warned me, her father, not to be letting you go astray in the pub at lunchtime. So now I've been dragged into it and I didn't do anything."

I suppose he figured I'd been warned so to my relief decided to move on. "now where are we on the Ferguson case?"

For the next fortnight it seemed to me that I, rather than Robert was the juvenile in the house. Even though I knew she meant well it got on my nerves. Not only had she changed the meals we had, but she was watching my alcohol consumption far too closely for my liking. Not only around the house but on the outside as well. Neither the Inspector nor Strange was willing to risk her wrath by having an extra pint with me. And if I wanted to stop at a pub after work on my own, she wanted to know where I had been. While not a very pleasant thing I had to tell myself that she was doing it for my own good.

The positive was that I hadn't had any more trouble with my stomach. A follow up visit with Doctor Allan showed that the ulcer had completely healed, however the Doctor did have one caution. I would likely have to continue monitoring my diet for the rest of my life. Otherwise I risked a relapse at any time. So I thanked him and resigned myself to more salads than I wanted and less ale than I wanted.

Like most couples married or not, over the next few months we settled into a mutually acceptable routine, and slowly the arguments declined. Almost without knowing it we were leading a "normal" life. Something which if you had asked me about before she turned up on my doorstep would have scared me to death. But as was our style they weren't meant to stay that way.

I was leaning against the kitchen counter drinking a beer as I tried to unwind from the day's mixture of boredom and mayhem. Joan was mixing up the tossed salad for dinner, something the voyeur in me never tired of watching. Robert was scooting on the floor marveling at some plastic blocks that someone had given Joan for him.

"I almost forgot my supervisor and I had a little talk today."

"Really?"

"she was asking me whether I would be interested in advancement"

"and are you? What would it mean?"

"Well we have very few full-time employees, most are volunteers, who sometimes don't stay very long."

"I understand that, so what kind of advancement are they talking about, and what would be involved if you decide to pursue it?"

"It means that I could probably go at least as far as a site manager. But, and it's a big but, if I want to pursue it I will have to take some training. That may involve some courses in somewhere other than Oxford, London most likely."

"Well how do you feel about that?"

"I'm not sure. I would like to move up, I enjoy the work and the money would come in handy, but I don't want to leave you and Robert either."

"Don't think we would run wild do you?" As soon as I said it, I knew I had stuck my foot in it, again. "Oh come on I was just teasing, we will be fine."

"Do you mind?, if you don't want me to I won't do it."

"Of course I don't mind, I want you to be successful at everything you do. And if this what you want then by all means do it."

"what would we do with Robert, I couldn't take him with me. And with your schedule….. I'd worry the whole time I was away."

"That's natural I suppose, but we can take good care of the boy. After all how long would it be, a week? Or would it be longer? Do you know yet when it will be?"

"I don't know exactly when they will be having the first course, probably in about a month. As I understand it the first class would be for a week. Then afterwards, if it works out, I don't know."

"Doesn't seem too difficult. Your mom would be happy to keep him during the day, and I'm used to watching him during the evening, when you have your friends over."

"I don't know, I've never left him alone overnight, I'll be worried."

"Don't be, it'll be fine. Now I'm going to set the table for dinner." Pleased that she had gotten a promotion for several reasons, the job seemed to suit her, and it was good to see that she was being recognized for her ability. And of course the money would come in handy, I hadn't foreseen the cost of raising a child, even though Joan remained reluctant to ask me to contribute anything financially. In addition Jim had made it clear that he intended to move into a place of his own as soon as he could afford it. And lastly, I had been wanting for some time to ask her to marry me. Of course I loved her but also because I wanted her to be taken care of if something happened to me. Now however didn't seem to be the time, I didn't want to intrude on her happiness a getting a promotion.

As she had predicted there would be a week-long training session in London during the first week in April. Of course she didn't have a thing to wear, so she had to rush out and buy new clothes. Fortunately she had friends who were happy to go with her, so I didn't get embroiled in that.

Her mom was very happy to keep Robert during the day as she was already doing and agreed that if I got called in during the night, I could bring him over. So we just had to wait for the Sunday afternoon when she had to leave. Of course she wanted to lay in enough food to last me for a month and fix several meals that I could just warm up. Perhaps she had forgotten that I had survived, at least in a manner of speaking, before she had turned up on my doorstep.

The big day arrived more quickly than I had expected, and I drove her to the train station surprised at her nervous chatter he entire way. As for myself I could only think that other than when I was in the hospital this would the only time, we had been apart since she had turned up at my apartment. And that the last time I had come to the station I had made a decision that had turned my life upside down. For the better to be sure but upside down.

We had given ourselves plenty of time to be sure we didn't have to rush, which of course meant that we had a lot of time on our hands. So she gave me all the last-minute instructions about how to care for the boy, instructions that were completely superfluous as we had just gone over them last evening, but I suppose it made her feel better. As for myself I began to experience a few pangs of insecurity. London was a long way away, and certainly there would be opportunities for the trainees to experience the night life that the city had to offer. Perhaps she would meet someone more interesting than a humble police sergeant. This was an unfamiliar notion for me, and I had to confess I didn't like it. Didn't like it at all.

The train was on time and when it came time to board, I carried her bag over to the carriage thinking this is as good a time as ever, she kissed Robert and I goodbye and started to enter the carriage when I stopped her. She turned with a look of surprise on her face, "what is it?" I put my hand on her arm to steady her as she stood there balanced on the step, "when you get back there is something, I would like for you to do for me.", "and what might that be?" "Joan, would you marry me?" I don't think she believed me at first, "what?" "marry me." By now the conductor was coming down the line closing the doors and I had to back away. She smiled and made the hand signal that she would call me. I picked the boy up and told him to wave at his momma, that she would be coming back soon, we watched for a few moments until the train started to pull out of the station then we turned and went back home.

The house seemed so empty when Robert and I got back from the train station. Strange wasn't there, off to who knows where, and it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop as they say. Periodically the noise from the fan motor on the refrigerator would break the silence. Annoying in a way yet also comforting as I needed it to last a little longer, at least long enough for me to save the money for a new unit. Otherwise I was just overwhelmed by how somber the place was without her. There was no humming in the kitchen as she worked at some little chore, nor her pop music on the radio, which I felt duty bound to complain about. The house already felt empty, and she probably hadn't even reached London yet.

The boy and I had our dinner, one of the several meals that she had prepared for me before she left. Afterwards I got him ready for bed after which I could have a beer, or two and listening to my music while I studied in preparation for classes the following day. Tonight I kept the volume on my music down so that if the phone rang, I would be sure to hear it. As the night wore on, I found myself glancing at the clock, wondering why she hadn't called. Certainly her train had arrived safely hours ago so what was keeping her? Despite my best efforts I found myself becoming more concerned as the night wore on.

Finally the phone rang and, in my haste, to reach for it I turned my beer over, spilling it over the corner of my desk. I tried to act as normal as possible while answering the phone, watching the beer run across my papers and drip onto the floor, hoping that it was her.

"Morse"

"Morse, Joan here, sorry I'm so late calling, how are you guys doing tonight? "

"ok, I've fed him and put him to bed, just sitting here studying"

"and having a few beers"

"maybe one…or two"

"or more?"

"Maybe,

"Morse, you know you have to watch that, haven't we talked about it?...did you eat? There was food in the fridge."

Figuring that a good offense was the best defense I tried to change the subject. "Of course I ate, and before you ask I ate tonight, it was very good…..I expected you to call earlier, did you have some trouble?"

"no, no trouble at all, Got my room, got settled in….met my roommate…she's a sweet girl from Manchester."

"That sounds nice"

"anyway after we got everything put away we went down to the lounge to see if any of the others were there, there was a band playing and we had a drink, met a few more of the trainees…..it was fun."

"I guess you have been too busy to think about my proposal this afternoon"

"No, I've given it quite a bit of thought actually. So Morse, after all this time that we have been together, and we've known each other long before that, I never thought you would ask me to marry you, why now?

"Your son needs a father"

"Come on that's not enough, and I don't think that that's all of it. After all you have already given him your name"

"That's not enough?"

"Do you really think I would settle just for that, after all bastard sons are a part of this country going back, oh probably before it was a country "

"Is that what you want for Robert? it's not what I want for you."

"No, but I will settle for that rather than marry a man who doesn't love me with all his heart"

"How, my god ,…. can you really think I don't care for you?...care deeply for you with all my heart?"

"No, because I know you do. But that's not the same as love is it?...If I was there could you look me in the eye and tell me you love me?"

I had no idea how to answer her right off, I certainly thought I loved her, but did I? and while I was framing my reply, she ended it, for now anyway.

"It's getting late, I'm tired and we have a full schedule tomorrow. Kiss Robert goodnight for me….. and Endeavour,…think seriously about what I asked you, if you have ANY doubt about whether you truly love me, marriage isn't the answer."

"but.."

"think about it and we will talk tomorrow, or whenever you are ready, you have my number, remember I will be in class from 9 until at least 5. Goodnight"

The dial tone on the phone line told me that she had hung up. Beer was dripping onto the floor, so I had to go and get a cloth and wipe it up, do something to prevent a sticky mess on the floor. This happened to be the perfect time for Strange to come in from what, by the looks of it, had been an enthusiastic night on the town. He proceeded to give me grief about being a sloppy drinker until he grew tired of my lack of response. Seeing there was no profit by continuing to harangue me he decided to call it a night. As he was leaving for his room however he told me that there was something we needed to discuss in the morning. "Great" I thought the perfect end to the perfect evening.

Finally finished cleaning up I decided to call it a night myself. But it wasn't the easiest nights sleep I'd ever had. Even the effect of the beer that I had drunk couldn't prevent me from replaying the conversation that Joan and I had. As she had told me on several occasions, I was the champion overthinker of the entire country. If so, I did myself proud this evening. I must have analyzed that conversation from every conceivable angle. Then I would rotate it ninety degrees and do it again. As a bonus when I wasn't doing that, I would think about her in the bar, with loud music and a bunch of lecherous old men on the prowl. It brought back memories of her dancing with Peter Jakes in the Moonlight Room. Jakes of the roaming hands, right there on the dance floor. And how much I wanted her to slap his face, but how she just moved his hand to a more appropriate spot. I don't know when I finally fell asleep, but it seemed as if I had just closed my eyes when the alarm went off.

The alarm had been set for a bit earlier than normal because I wanted to have plenty of time to get Robert fed, dressed and ready before taking him to his grandmothers. Even so it didn't take me very long to discover how little I knew about the matter. From how to prepare his food, to how to coax him into eating to getting him dressed, everything seemed to be far more complicated than I had imagined. Even when we started out for grandma's I had to go back for something I had forgotten. Joan had gotten to the point of making it look so effortless, that I had mistakenly assumed it was. Another reason that I would be glad when she returned.

Strange seeing me struggling had not brought up whatever it was he wanted to talk about, just said we could talk about it later. That he would see me at the station. I barely got to the Thursday's home in time to drop Robert off and get to the bus stop in time. As I rushed along, I felt that getting to work would be a relief. There I would be in my comfort zone. No diapers, no bibs, no irritable babies, just murder and mayhem.

It seems that humans can adapt to almost any situation, given enough time. As the week wore on, with Mrs. Thursday's help I was almost beginning to get the hang of caring for Robert. Even so I suppose he missed his mothers touch, much gentler and comforting than mine could ever be. When I had finished the meals that Joan had prepared for us before she left, I reverted to the habits I had developed during my days of living alone. I would grab whatever was handy and then drink my calories while I studied. Joan would call every night to check on us, although I suppose it was more to make sure Robert was ok. We would talk about her day more than mine I suppose. For really the first time in my life I found myself feeling jealous. If she called early, I wondered where she was going after we talked. If she called later, I wondered what she had been doing, and with who.

One evening Strange told me over dinner that he would likely be moving out soon. That he had found a nice, affordable little house in a neighborhood not far from the station. A quiet neighborhood, but with a lot of younger people moving in. He was somewhat apologetic because he knew that we could use the money he contributed to the rent but sharing a place really wasn't his style. Right now he doesn't know exactly when he will be moving, although he hopes for the first of the month. While not unexpected it was still a bit of a shock. It seemed like every time we can take a step forward, something always comes up to knock us back. I decide that there is no point telling Joan about it until after she returns after all there is nothing, she can do about it. In the meantime I need to consider whether we can afford to stay here without taking in another roommate. Of course that's not exclusively my decision, when she got back, we could make that decision. Of course that wasn't the only decision that had to be made when she got back.

Friday morning was even more hectic than the rest of the week had been. I was starting to get the hang of getting Robert ready to take to his grandparents in a reasonably timely manner. But this morning there was the extra complication of cleaning the place up. It wouldn't do to leave any evidence of slacking off when she was gone. Certainly there could be no evidence of alcohol being consumed in greater than normal quantities. Knowing she would look in the trash, I got up early enough to go several doors down and add it to my neighbor's abundant collection of bottles. Then its off to take Robert to his grandparents, Win suggests that I leave him with her when I go to meet Joan at the station. That way we will have time for a catchup and can have dinner with them before taking him home with us.

If Thursday had thought I was a clock-watcher before that afternoon I probably set a record of some sort. According to the schedule I would have plenty of time to get to the station before her. But I wanted to be certain that I was there when the train arrived. Over the time I had known her Joan and I had been apart for months on more than a few occasions, yet now I recognize how much I missed her after just a week. Is that telling me that I love her? I don't know, I never have truly known what love feels like.

I find a spot on the platform so that I can see the train as soon as it begins to pull into the station. Of course I have no way of knowing what carriage she will be on, but that's fine, I can go to the correct car once I see her. You would think as many stakeouts as I had done it would have taught me patience, but evidently not. It seemed like an eternity before the announcement of the train was made. Like all the others waiting I rose and pressed forward toward the edge of the platform yet keeping a safe distance from the edge. First the engines went by then the first of the cars, more and more cars with no sign of her until I began to think perhaps, she had some reason taken a later train. The train came to a stop and I turned to walk down to the last carriage just in case she was on one of those cars. It was then that I saw her stepping down, several cars ahead of me. Looking ahead she noticed me almost as soon I did her. Her face lit up with that smile that I wanted to spend the rest of my life looking at. She gathered up her bag and hurried toward me while I went to meet her halfway. When we met, she embraced me with her free arm and gave me a kiss on the lips much to my embarrassment. I heard somebody, it must have been me, say "welcome home, I've missed you." I took her bag and she linked her arm in mine as we walked towards the carpark.

During the ride towards her parents' house she told me all about her week in London. How exciting she had found it, and how motivated she was to pursue social work as her career. One of the things she had recognized was that she needed to pursue more formal education to reach her goals. Perhaps once I graduated, we would be able to afford for her to do so. While I was all in favor of her advancing her career, I had to question what this would do to our lives together. Robert would be getting older and would be less of a problem, but if she agreed to marry me than what? Could we have a child or children of our own while she pursued her career? Suppose I decided to leave Thames Valley for another job, what about her career, for that matter what about us? All off a sudden life seemed to be so complicated.

When we arrived at her parent's house, Win brought Robert out to meet his mom. The Inspector and I stood back and watched the little reunion as Win handed Robert to his mother before he ushered us inside.

The evening went well I thought, in a way it reminded me so much of my early days as the Inspectors bagman. A loving family, comfortable with each other, the very atmosphere exuding the love they had for each other. Any negativity about Joan having her child out of wedlock had apparently if not forgotten, at least forgiven. The child being welcomed to the bosom of the family, doted on by his grandparents. I was content to sit and bask in the warmth of the love radiating throughout the room. The Inspector and I retiring to the living room for an after-dinner drink, leaving the women to catchup and well do whatever it is women do. Soon enough it was time to go home and get the boys head down. I must confess that I was ready for bed as well.

"I've been waiting for you to ask me what my answer is?"

"I figured you would in your own time."

"Would you be upset if I asked you to wait a bit?"

"Wait? What on earth for?"

"Let me rephrase that. As to whether I will marry you the answer is yes, I will. But….."

"But?"

"Can we not set a date just yet? Let's get you through school, see how things are then we can set a date. Is that too much to ask?"

"I don't suppose I have much choice now do I?"

"It will be for the best you'll see, trust me."


	5. Chapter 5 Turning Point

**Turning Point**

The months following Joan's return from London were some of the most pleasant times we would spend together, despite it being a time of significant change. Jim Strange moved out and for the first time since we had been living in that cramped downstairs apartment it was just the three of us. Of course finances were tight, nothing new there, but with Joan's promotion we could make ends meet, if barely. Robert is growing, no longer an infant and while he certainly isn't my child he's being raised as if he were.

Joan was really getting into the stride of her new job, already the assistant to the manager, and it appeared inevitable that she would one day become the manager. I have been surprised at how deeply she has become immersed in her work, almost as much so as I am mine. As for myself I try to remain focused on the light at the end of the tunnel, graduation from college. The closer it gets the more anxious I am becoming, anxious for a change. The continual strain of the hours necessary for school as well as the job is taking a toll on me, I'm afraid. I find myself becoming shorter tempered with everyone around me, and it's more difficult to conceal the fact that I'm eager to move on.

Joan, to her credit, is determined that she will be involved with her sons rearing and has some definite ideas for the development of her son. While she will see that he is brought up as a normal child, she wants him to be aware of the world and his part in it. In the evenings, no matter how tired she is, she takes time to teach him how to begin to read. In addition she involves him in all the tasks around the house, from dish washing to cleaning. One day I even find her instructing him in the art of flower arranging. When I question this, she tells me that she intends, when he gets a little older, to teach him how to sew as well. Taken a bit aback, when I press her as to why she's doing this, her reply is that she wants him to be well rounded. A man who's self-sufficient, not dependent on anyone for his happiness. I can only acquiesce, but this is a side of her I haven't seen before.

During our free time on the weekends, she would sometimes drag me along as she took Robert to the park, or sometimes just to get an ice cream. As we watched over him, we would discuss what we each would do after I graduated. Would I be able to get a job with the "special branch" types or just stay the course at CID? She feels that "special branch" is the right course, at the same time she wants to continue her education as well. There are more opportunities now for women, but they will require more education than she currently has. Given her determination and commitment there is no way I can refuse her. We agree that as soon as possible she can go to whatever school she can afford for her to attend.

My work of course never seems to change, it's incredible the cruelty that human beings can inflict on each other. That is undoubtably the one dark spot in my life, and it appears to be only getting worse. And as the depravity worsens the clamor from the public demanding that it be brought under control is increasingly louder and louder. In response the city council demands the police solve the problem regardless of whatever resources that it takes. This leads to longer hours for the police force particularly for the detectives. As a result of the pressure to solve the crimes, I find myself slowly reverting to my old ways. Rather than burdening her with the ugliness I again seek solace in a bottle. Joan of course sees right through my attempts to disguise it, is the first to see what's happening, and tries to intervene. But even though I know she's right I can't seem to get a handle on it. Before long it seems as if every time, we are together, we are having a row about something.

To keep Robert out of this environment she begins to leave him with her mother more and more. Then she also starts to spend the occasional night at her parents place instead of in our home. On more than one occasion I promise her that I will change my ways, for her sake. And of course I mean it sincerely, nothing means as much to me as she does, as they do. Yet the alcohol consumption is increasing to the point that even the inspector is starting to comment on it. On more than one occasion he warns me that I am playing into the hands of those who want to see me gone from the division.

We don't have the money for me to indulge as I used to, and I can't let Joan know that I'm spending too much, she'd go ballistic. But I do know a way out. In the course of my work I've met some people who can help financially. And it wouldn't be for very long either, just a couple of small loans to tide me over until I graduate. Then with the extra income from a better job, I can easily pay it all back. Of course the interest rates they charge are beyond ridiculous, they are criminal, in every sense of the word. But I need the money and if I pay the money back nobody will be the wiser.

Despite it seeming like it will never happen I finally graduate. Just in the nick of time really because my grades had started to decline, if it had gone much longer it would likely have been a repeat of my first performance. And all is still not lost between Joan and me. Sometimes we are as close as we have ever been. There are moments when all I want to do is take her in my arms and tell her I love her. But in my heart, I can see that it is slipping away. I suppose one of the real tragedies was that both of us could see it happening. And there were times when we tried oh, so hard to prevent it. To hang on to what we had together, something good, something special. But we didn't know how to go about it. It was like being part of a slow-motion train wreck that was unfolding before our very eyes.

Even though it was slipping away we did have moments when we tried to put the brakes on. I remember one Saturday in particular, we had taken Robert to the park, I had bought ice cream cones for everybody. He had rushed through his, dropping probably half onto the grass in his haste. Fortunately we were able to distract him with a sand pile while she and I sat on a bench nearby.

"nice today isn't it?"

"Very much so, but think they call for rain tonight and tomorrow."

"Umm, well I guess we need it."

"have you decided what you're going to do about school?"

"I really want to go, if we can afford it. Seems like things are still really tight."

"I know, I'm hoping those people from Dempsey's old mob will get in touch. If not, I'm going to try and reach out to them."

"I'm not sure that will solve everything Morse."

"What are you saying? of course it will."

"I want to believe that, I truly do, but I have my doubts."

"Everything will be fine, trust me."

"Morse, I'm trying to, but I'm not sure how much more of this I can take.

"what are you saying?"

"your drinking is getting worse, you're so short tempered I can barely speak to you. I really worried about us, how much more I can take."

"Believe me its going to be fine."

"Look at him, he's a mess. Ice cream and sand isn't a good combination. Let's go, it will take me forever to clean him up."

If anything I pin all my hopes on escaping the CID. To get away from the brutality, from the ridiculous hours, and to have enough money to be able to breath. To pay off those onerous small loans that haunt my conscience.

Shortly after lunch one day, the Inspector stopped by my desk and asked me to follow him, that Mr. Bright had asked that we join him in his office. When we entered his office, I was surprised to find that he's not alone. There are two men with him who I don't recognize, before he introduces them, he dismisses the Inspector to return to his work.

Once the Inspector has left, the Superintendent introduces the two men to me as being from the Internal Affairs department, who have some questions for me. Their "questions" are easily recognizable as an interrogation. And it doesn't take very long at all to realize what they are after. They were concerned about my financial dealings with some of Oxfords less than savory characters. Whether in exchange for certain "favors" I have been looking the other way in a quid pro quo arrangement. In short was I now a dirty cop? As soon as I realized what they were after I couldn't help but lose my temper. The very thought was disgusting. It took a few firm words from Mr. Bright to get me to sit back down and answer their questions.

Their concluding statement that "they would pass the information along to their superiors and that I would be notified of a decision in due course" was almost too much to bear. Obviously, it wasn't whether I had done anything wrong, it was whether there was the appearance of wrongdoing that mattered. When I returned to my desk, I was a beaten man, what was I going to do? How could I explain this to Joan? What would the Inspector think? Why hadn't I gotten on the train to London? The rest of the afternoon I couldn't look at any of my co-workers because of my embarassment. As soon as quitting time came I grabbed my coat and left…..I needed a drink.

Neither the Inspector or the Superintendent ever mentioned that meeting to me afterward. Yet in my imagination I can see the mistrust in their eyes every time I'm in their presence. It seems like the only way out is to get away from CID, to start anew. There is still the chance of Dempsey's mob or maybe I could try again with the Met, but what about Joan and Robert? I doubt that Joan would be willing to move now that she has applied for college, not to mention her job. Maybe this will all blow over and things will just get back to normal. Maybe all I need is a little time.

As soon as I walked in the door, she met me with a big smile on her face, came to me and gave me a big hug. "I've gotten some good news today."

"Really, what is it?"

"I've been accepted!"

"what?"

"I've been accepted to school! I start next term." She looked at me for my reaction and was surprised, I think.

"Morse, what's the matter, aren't you happy about this?"

I didn't know what to say, or, maybe I did, but now wasn't the time. "of course, honey, that's great news. I just wasn't expecting it so soon." I could tell that she knew I was holding something back, but she wasn't going to push me, and I was going to let her have her moment. Perhaps there was still time for a miracle.

"How could you have done this to me….to us! What were you thinking?"

I had never seen her so infuriated with me, and as much as I wanted to, I couldn't blame her.

"It's just not fair, Endeavour!" she was so made that she couldn't cry….yet. That would come later. "After all I did for you, supported you, and now….and now…..you do me like this."

"I didn't mean to hurt you, I thought I could take care of it."

"and when were you going to tell me hmm?" "Don't you think I had the right to know?"

"of course, it's just that…"

"get out."

"let me explain. I can fix it."

"get out, now."

When I stepped outside her room, she shut the door behind me. I could hear the lock as it shut. For the first time since I had known her, she had shut me out, and deservedly so. The only consolation I had was that maybe she would be willing to talk about it again in the morning.

The next morning I was awakened from my fitful sleep on the couch by the sounds of someone puttering around in the kitchen. I had to rub the sleep from by my eyes to be able to focus in the dim light of the bulb above the sink. Finally able to focus, I swung my legs down and sat up, watching her move around, making coffee dressed in her nightgown.

"morning" she didn't answer me immediately. I couldn't tell if she was still mad, or just didn't want to give in too easily so I tried again. "how are you this morning?"

She got her coffee cup and went to sit down at the table, telling me "coffee's ready, if you want some."

Hoping that would be the icebreaker that I needed I said. "thank you, I need a cup."

We sat there in silence for what seemed like an excruciatingly long time. Finally I couldn't take it any longer. "I'm sorry" she didn't react to that and was obviously avoiding looking at me, so I continued. "I didn't mean to hurt you, and I really can fix this, just give me a little bit of time."

"I'm sorry too."

Obviously, that was all I was going to get from her this morning. So I got up from the table, went back and got ready for work. When I came back out to go, she had gotten Robert up and was feeding him his breakfast. I tried to kiss her goodbye, but she turned so I just was able to give her a peck on the cheek.

"well, I'll see you later. What time are you going to be home today?

"I may go in late today."

"Ok, just be careful."

As I got ready to go out the door, she called to me. "Morse?"

"yes?"

"We may not be here when you get back."

I hoped it was just an idle threat to wind me up, timed as it was so that I had no time to respond, but somehow, I doubted it.

When time to leave work came that afternoon, I was in no hurry to leave. I had been keenly aware throughout the day that the inspector had been obviously avoiding me. Although I had the feeling, I was being watched I never was able to make eye contact with him, and assignments had all gone to others, leaving me to stew at my desk. Unusually for him the Inspector was one of the first to leave, walking right past me without a comment. This gave me a strong indication that Joan had at the very least unburdened herself to her parents that morning.

Finally there was nothing for it but to face it, so I grabbed my coat and sat out toward our home. The temptation to stop by a pub for a drink was hard to resist, but I didn't want to make it any worse, just in case my fears were unfounded. The closer I got to home the more nervous I became. There was that tightness in my stomach which reminded me nothing so much as having to enter a building where an armed suspect might be lying in wait.

When I arrived all was quiet, there were no signs of activity at all on the exterior, the car wasn't there, no lights burning, just silence. Entering I found that the interior was the same, obviously no one had been there for some time, there was no note, nothing. When I went into our bedroom the closet had been emptied of all her clothes and effects. There wasn't even a photograph to mark that she had ever been there. The same for Robert's room, empty. She was gone, and by all appearances this wasn't one of those times when she had been upset, and just spent the night at her parents. This was a planned move, likely done with her mothers, or someone's, assistance.

I went back into the living room, went to the cupboard, and poured myself a large measure of scotch before sitting down to reflect on where I should go from here. I suspected that she had taken Robert and gone to her parent's house. If so, did I march over there and risk a confrontation with either she or her father Inspector Thursday, perhaps both? On the other hand did I just wait for her to make the next move, which might give the perception that I didn't care.

Although I thought it less likely, but not impossible, she could possibly have gone to stay at a friend's place, perhaps even Strange's. If so, I would never find her until she reached out to me. All things considered it seemed that the best thing for me to do was to just sit tight and wait for the phone to ring. In the meantime while I wasn't hungry, I could use a drink.

As one drink led to another, I sat there watching the level of amber liquid slowly dropping in the bottle it struck me that I had forgotten how quiet the place could be without she or Robert in it. They had almost become the background music that my life revolved around. As I watched the hands of the clock move inexorably around its face it became more obvious that she wasn't going to call. With one bottle emptied, I thought to open another. Something to pass the time, in case she too was sitting by the phone waiting for it to ring. Maybe she would forgive me enough to pick up the phone.

There were no tears visible this time. Those had been shed before this moment, in some cases long before this moment. Regardless maybe the time for them had faded into the mists of our mutual pasts. There they could have a reunion with all the other emotions that we had buried along the way.

That's not to say that there wasn't sadness, oh, there was sadness in abundance. It was plainly visible, even permeating the very air that surrounded us. It could be seen in our eyes. Each of us holding a look that says, "I hope I must only experience this once". A look that asks, "how the hell did we wind up here?" The kind of sadness that brings a huge lump that clogs my throat. A lump that prevents me from speaking the words that I want so desperately to say. Words that I know are meaningless because they won't matter. That it's far too late for any words to make a difference now. A sadness that makes me want to look anywhere, everywhere, but into her eyes. For to do so would complete the collapse that is slowly tearing at my being. And the worst part of it all is that I believe that she feels the same way.

Every ounce of my being is screaming Please, can you forgive me just one more time. Maybe this time it will be different, maybe we will get it right…finally. But how many times has she tried to meet me halfway, maybe more than halfway? And I have failed her each of those times. And in failing her have failed myself as well. She deserves better than to continue with the charade.

God I love her, I always have….. and I hate this moment with every fiber in my being. I would sell my mortal soul, and anything, everything, else for it to be different. To be able to summon up the words that will make her understand how much I want to change it. But I can't for I know that those words simply don't exist. And I can't go back in time and heal it.

So once again I can only let her walk away. Knowing that this time she won't, can't, come back into my life ever again.

My back was hurting me, and there no way for me to get comfortable. When I opened my eyes, I realized that I was sitting in the arm chair, an empty glass in my hand. Evidently, I had at some point gone to sleep holding it, apparently it had been virtually empty when I nodded off as there was no evidence of any on the floor. I'm generally not one to dream, or at least seldom remember doing so in the light of the next day. But this time was different, it was so vivid, incredibly vivid as if it had happened like that, and if I was the superstitious type I would say I had. Yet, as vivid as it had been it was already into the mists of my mind as the dawns early rays came in through the east facing window of our living room.

As I stood up and stretched, I could only think what was I going to do now?


End file.
